Moon like a midday’s sun
Through manzanita, on the run
Fist fought the wind and each punch howled
Uprooted giant on the ground.
“I will be coming for you, until the creek runs dry.
I will be coming for you, and through the ashes blood will rise.”
Moon like a midnight sun
With broken limbs the west was won.
A frozen king face-down for good
Six tons of rotting cedar wood