Is this writing mine
Whose name is this
Did I underline
What I was to miss?
An upheaval of leaves
Enlightens the tree
Rooted it receives
Gusts on a spree
Beauty makes me sad
Makes me grieve
I see what I must leave
Scaffold, gallows
Do whose will
Who hallows wood
To build, kill
Blind man, anvil
No hammer strikes
Your eyes are spikes