The Yew Tree

A salmon leapt from the river's dark depths
A bright flash of silver in the sunlight

A hawk wheeled in the eye of the sun
His shadow moved on the ancient green mound

A fox gleamed russet in the margin of the forest
His eyes glinted in the twilight realm

A maiden sitting silent held
Two crossed swords, the equinoctial balance

A man sat musing by a deep pool
His clever fingers plucking the strings of a harp

Chained by one ankle to the rock
Yet he smiled, as one who slips the bonds of time.