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.