Desolate, I walked until the cold
Numbed the marrow of my bones.
The clouds roamed so restlessly,
But I headed East stone by stone–
Long past time I headed home.
Hours passed and a flash of gold
Showed me that tomorrow had come;
Shadows danced across the road
As I retraced my way to yesterday.
The tree I knew since I was born
Was skeletal now, weak, and shorn;
It trembled in the early morn,
Branches reaching not to me,
But to something that I could not see.
Written for the Daily Echo
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