here my father stands, a tree
i knew so well,
but never understood
standing unabashedly,
upon the darkened edges of
the silver-glowing wood
a carrier of time am i,
a wanderer who’s long been lost,
a bearer of the ancient songs
he handed to me, covered then
in frost
i seek to know, but silence falls,
and weakness fills me, rapidly,
i know it’s him, but he won’t speak
for there my father stands
a tree
To share is human:
