The tree in the dawn is:
A bronze statue.
A collection of clattering crows,
Besieged, a storm of ink
(they strut, they stab
to break loose.
a quickstart batter of fright, is
the figment, that which sent the birds sprawling)

The tree in the dawn is:
Exuberant ebony versus deathly whitewash,
A cold sculpture
Standing.
(levying the imperviousness
of blank-white backdrops,
a darkness against-
reaching all extents of black and white.)

The tree in the dawn is:
A frightening monster!
...A dark urchin tower,
-aquiver with black tentacles
And squawking feathery runoff
...A beast with its metaphysical yawp
Thrashing every way, a mass of limbs
(drips a blackness off it,
A fluid like dark soot water
   cleansing in dawn light)

The tree in the dawn is:
A tree.
Nothing more.  Nothing less.
     (now that the sun has risen)