I am the tree arched over your yard
abrading sky above the shards of what once
were contents of your Instagram life, guarded-
by-Doberman duplicitous wife, crunched
digital frames, board games amidst piled piss
yellow leaves. I have outlived any you grieve.
September 19th, 2020:
Follow creek through the weeping trees until
it narrows and you cross with ease. Keep mum
along the rivulet cascading still
through thicket of thorns you will not succumb.
Sometimes we run restless
Blog at WordPress.com.