Our Tree

The low hanging branches rocked in the cold December breeze.
Dead leaves on the ground continued to freeze.

My chilly breath puffed from my mouth in a cloud
To shroud

The air in a dark mist
As my hand balled into a fist.

Bad memories invaded my mind
In order to bind

My fragile heart to this very willow tree
That used to mean so much to me.

Anna and I always sat
At the trunk so we could chat

Without worrying about being heard
By others that would laugh at us afterward.

The tree was our sanctuary.

Our imaginary world.

Our friendship.

Now here it stands
And here it brands

Into the earth
Meaning more now than it was worth.

A look of disgust crossed my face
Finding the place to be a disgrace.

How could she treat me in such a way?
Why would she purposefully turn my skies gray?

I told her I was leaving
And without grieving

Or even saying good bye
She didn’t reply

And walked away
As if the thought of me leaving wouldn’t sway

Her life in the least.
This, in fact, was when my anger was released.

I stormed to the tree,
Unable to control the new me,

When my foot connected with the trunk.
A large chunk

Flew to hit the ground
Making a very ominous sound.

Reaching down, my eyes came upon
Our names that we carved on

The tree many years before.
This opened up another sore.

Why did those days have to pass?
Why couldn’t they last?

But I knew that it wasn’t meant to be.
That fact I could finally see

As I turned from my old life
I hoped that this time I wouldn’t be cut with a knife.