Carolyn Dewey Poet Free verse

The Tree That Gave Up

I spent myself on you,
one million dollars
blown away like dry leaves
in a careless breeze.

I am empty;
I can afford to give you
no more.

I sacrificed myself for you,
my feathered headdress gone,
my heart in the jar that you left
on the shelf of forgetfulness.

I am hollow;
I moan in despair
and collapse on myself.

I lost myself to find you,
reduced to a nameless piece of wood
while you flourished
under my stolen light.

I am absent;
do you wish
I were present?

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