The strings of twine are slowly breaking as he falls farther from the family tree. I stand still in the midst of a circle like the center of a clock. People are quickly passing me by as the hands of time change and his new life is revealed. My heart stops beating as the lifeless begonias planted under a shaded tree begin to wilt. I have to let the twines unwind similar to his new life.
He comes to a bend and waves goodbye. I cover my tears with the invisible umbrella across my face. As I return home, now still after the earth trembled, I sit at the table staring at the chair he once occupied.
© Holly P. Moore 10/11/14
Copyright © HOLLY MOORE