I swing on red cedar alone now.
Mind lingering in the past,
on pictures of us scouring high
up trees, together.
I wipe away my own tears now,
since you left.
Oh how it haunts me
with sadness that it used to be
your hand brushing them away.
Winds taunt my hard-heart now
I persist, this knot to form properly
and to have only visions of you
as I slip,
trip,
and fall
from this world.
