From Graham Oak Park

Oregon White Oak

Oaks are opportunists like the pioneers

seeking open territory, uncrowded
by fancy fir or large leaf maple

stout and craggy, crooked limbs gray
and fissured bark they are
the cornerstones of scarcity -

old men of the savannah.

The White oak splits readily

despite its hardness, and oh the gall -

calluses in their foliage,

hard-shelled hollow spheres

and lichen hanging on leafless limbs

impart an eerie appearance on winter nights.

Yet mistletoe, too can be found in the crown

of these majestic elders
mistletoe seeming to say Kiss me 
won’t you please come, 
sit under my canopy the old oak beckons

I have shade and wisdom and years to offer

won’t you, won’t you please

come, sit with me