our tree

we ran along the meadow,
and climbed up in our tree;
there’d never been two other friends
like you and me.

but we grew up and sideways,
and dreamed of other fields —
the friends and trees we leave behind
while each still yields

Published by

Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

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