Sitting in this
dying tree
wondering; should
I just let
you be, like she
has done with me?
When she said she
had to go
was that the last
that I should
know? Then, I get
a shiver, when
wintry skies dim
with snowfall
winding it’s way
down the glen
I feel the fall
This tree; once, so tall
Painting the back fence
in words that should last
beyond this day, since
years, do just rush past
These fence words I’ve picked
will stay here until
time has been licked and
the need to stand still
Then I and the fence
will come to know
the wind’s blowing, hence
over will we go
By then, it won’t mean
a thing, if that side
is greener than green
when the fence collides
with the earth, and I
am lifted so high
swirled around in mirth
amid true blue skies
Heartspell 