There was a tree
On the hill,
And I would watch a beautiful girl
Lay in
Its shade,
Never quite sure if she was enjoying
The tree,
Or the summer day.
But one day, the tree stood
Alone
Atop the hill,
And I watched as its leaves
Turned brittle
And blanketed the ground.
One.
By.
One.
I lay,
Wrapped in that blanket,
And gazed at the January sky
Through the holes where the leaves
Had been.
And for the first time in my life,
I cried for that fragile memory.
END
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