THE OAK’S COLD SECRET

“The Oak’s Cold Secret”

The oak stood thick in the shadow-damp ground,

Its heavy bark like a terrible hide,

A pervasive, cold silence hung all around,

To keep the secret that lived deep inside.

I pressed my palm to the wet, callous skin,

A faint, ugly blemish scarred deep in the grain,

And felt a deep knowledge take root within,

The last, muted relic of terror and pain.

I recognized the initials of the dead,

A small, tarnished button held tight in the wood,

A century of silent terror I had read,

About the boy who vanished where the old oak stood.

I felt a chill that wasn’t just the air,

My fingers numbed against the solid mass,

A slow, heavy knowledge that I couldn’t share,

That soon I’d join the boy beneath the grass.

Written on 10/9/2025