Norn

Swans from swain broods emerge to the Norns
who thread twine, riverine, alluvial born;
   fates tend to puddle, well-tree over-ridden;
  the Norns sort us out, trophy in the midden

a root runs true or turns false no less,
carries our water, the ash of success
   the limbs roost above our imperiled crowns
   widow-maker swooping, silently browned

no fish two-swan stalking, mirror calm lake,
no leaf left untasted, the hart there to take
   no dirt clod molested, the serpent true hiss
   there in Norn's weaving wand's illustriousness

   noblest of trees, tried on all sides
   ribs back, arm branch, heart soul& mind