Through My Window
Through my window I watched the snowflakes drifting lazily to the ground
While I mourned for the ancient elm across the road dying before my very eyes;
Its dry, wrinkled leaves dancing with the snowflakes
As its twisted trunk cried out in anguish.
Together we sadly watched a funeral procession slowly drive by;
The dying elm and me sharing a young mother’s grief for the loss of her only child,
Reminding us of our fragility.
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