she waited
unaware
of the man
in the stars
or the witch
in the hut
as sunlight filtered down
through the canopy of trees
a raven
landed softly
on the branches
of the strong old oak
soon another
then another
until the black eyes
stared at her
one hundred fold
the oak
seemed to ripple
with feathers
in place of the leaves
gone golden
as the winds
turned chill
as summer
faded to fall
she clutched
her bear closely
one of the button eyes swung
by two
dangling threads