Old Friend

This tree I see now as

I remembered it: broken- still a vessel once

upon a time now lain down in its own

stillness to rest; to dust.

Swept away by windy time- that

gateway gone each second

with handfuls of

hourglass sand. This

tree I once had loved is more

beautiful still, it held me in its arms

I see me then even as I

weep now.

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This entry was posted in Nature.

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