Gardener at Heart - Book Two

Obituary


Oh, the sky is so empty

Where your tree once stood.

So short a time ago,

This pale blue space was full

Of branches rich with life,

A strong old trunk,

A still-growing top.

And now it’s empty sky.

Just so empty.


The little birds that used to fly

Back and forth from my tree to yours

Are circling in this emptiness,

Calling their high thin cries,

Sharp as knives.

They return to me with empty beaks

And it begins to rain again.


I truly cannot believe

That there is only dust.

Where are you now?

I send my birds out again

And they vanish.


I am still waiting here

For one of them to return

With some kind of leaf in its beak.


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