The Beating Tree

Blackened branches 
Hanging low 
Reaching crooked arms 
Of a nature giant, 
Standing hunched in 
Torrential wind, 
As feathery greens that lace
Their tough, thickened skin 
Grasp at dusty remnants Of shattered words 
That hang In the crisp air-
Like a limp body 
Tethered to a beating tree. 
Crimson liquid 
Trailing down sharply cut 
Emblems 
Embedded in Ebony tissue.