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"THE RAG TREE" by TOM MCFADDEN from THE SOUTH CAROLINA REVIEW 109
Wrapped in ancient allusion,
I stare feelings through a rear window
toward the strange, arboreal beckoning
of what seems my celtic tree.
While I stare through the back of modernity
toward that looming structure,
alive yet atavistic,
remembrance evokes a rag tree
of ancient Ireland,
where, upon the boughs availing
of that singular, special tree,
strips of colored cloth were draped
by those worry-weighted
in fragile supplication
for relief from moments fortune-fallen.
When next an ominous overcast
usurps and fills my modern sky,
I may travel through the back door of modernity,
unseen and unexplaining,
traveling backward to the site
where rises the dramatic oak,
and with a hand
that may be trembling, worry-weighted
…drape a colored rag across the strongest branch.
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