Roe's Walk

She was far removed from everything Gazing at the branches heavily laden with red; An old wife once said it was a sign of bad winter. But it couldn’t be so bad, she thought, Not with these bleak hills and The grey steel waves to comfort me. Not with this darkness that Beckons early nightfall, And soul beseeching tempests For my own tears to stall. There was more sadness, she thought, In the murmering summer breeze That whispered of wistful dreams Like the emerald temptress of a mighty stream, voracious. But immersed and held within Runs icy cold and vicious Over raw trembling skin. The branches dipped and sighed with her One leaf fell slowly, waving Sweetly and lay itself at her feet. She watched the charging river Wind past the berried tree Grew slender, pale In the midst of the auburn forest, Like her own translucent limbs Untouched by love nor lovers now.