She appeared just after Hurricane Irene blew down three trees
that had sheltered her for countless years.
Melded to a birch tree, she’s a goddess in the rough,
an unrefined beauty, alive and uncultivated.
Her eyes and mouth are mushrooms filled with layers of dirt, dust,
and other hardened, natural deposits.
Her nose is a broken tree branch pointing ever skyward.
And she watches over my home in the Adirondack State Park