7 Threnodies – 6

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

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