Mist the Oak Tree by wabberjocky For my old dog who loves his job herding deer from garden back to woodsFor the deer, silent shadows moving between trunks at dusk, feeding on acornsFor the acorns that grow into sturdy oaks with roots like armor around the chuck-wills burrowFor the the branches that provide a jungle gym for energetic squirrels to climb toward the skyFor the sky that sends the rains back to the canopy of leaves and the shelter of oakwoodFor the leaves that paint blue mountains in shades of gold and orange in the fall Because the veil was torn from my eyes in those years the loggers cameBecause…