Deposed majesty.

I will lay down      comfort you.

We will face the Dark                  together.

.

Seventy seasons

were hived in honeycombed bones.

                             Abandoned now.

.

Magpies that roosted

reverent      were protected

heads     bowed beneath wings.

.

All gone.

.

Your crown lies broken.

Insolent sheep mob to strip

sweetly swollen buds.

.

A thigh-thick root tracked

east      the other twisted      westwards

pivot to your fall.

Less      than nothing now.

Where once your crenulations

                                                  contended with skies -

wry tenacious stump

a broken tooth      an old ache

sly-megaliths      up.