Ceremony

I just got backhanded
Straight out the
altocumulus.
My nimbus is
Stratified,
My concentration
Creeps like poison ivy.

Into the sub-ethereal
Pines I find myself
Lined with hides.
Branches spiral
Into the damp
Cauldron of needles.


Segmented and knotty
With claw-like
Extensions,
I carve my path
To the river—

(((Ceremonial organs)))

Chthonic winds drone!