Winter
winds bluster deep within the sycamore
pulling memories from the strength
of time
as shattered leaves commence their fall
I watch, helplessly/hopelessly
sheltered behind smudged glass
barren as each side thins
looking out at what once was looking in
climbing that sycamore
in all her splendor
rich and full of life
high was I
cherishing the delectation
of a grand blue sky
hushed in amazement
along with the honey bee
flapping magic in her wings
oh my, how graceful was thee
swaying but still
still it always will
•
there's a crackle to the east
the winds bluster again
darkness knocks
I close my eyes and try to remember
the scent of happiness
slowly drifting far far away
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