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Robinson Jeffers - The Summit Redwood
Work rating: Low

Only stand high a long enough time your lightning
     will come; that is what blunts the peaks of
     redwoods;
But this old tower of life on the hilltop has taken
     it more than twice a century, this knows in
     every
Cell the salty and the burning taste, the shudder
     and the voice.

                      The fire from heaven; it has
     felt the earth`s too
Roaring up hill in autumn, thorned oak-leaves tossing
     their bright ruin to the bitter laurel-leaves,
     and all
Its under-forest has died and died, and lives to be
     burnt; the redwood has lived. Though the fire
     entered,
It cored the trunk while the sapwood increased. The
     trunk is a tower, the bole of the trunk is a
     black cavern,
The mast of the trunk with its green boughs the
     mountain stars are strained through
Is like the helmet-spike on the highest head of an
     army; black on lit blue or hidden in cloud
It is like the hill`s finger in heaven. And when the
     cloud hides it, though in barren summer, the
     boughs
Make their own rain.

                     Old Escobar had a cunning trick
     when he stole beef. He and his grandsons
Would drive the cow up here to a starlight death and
     hoist the carcass into the tree`s hollow,
Then let them search his cabin he could smile for
     pleasure, to think of his meat hanging secure
Exalted over the earth and the ocean, a theft like a
     star, secret against the supreme sky.
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