The Promise

I wonder if it hurts the trees
to have to let go of their leaves
to be laid bare by biting winds
to be made ugly by winter

Are they ashamed
of scarred and peeling bark
of gnarled branches
of the fact that the birds have abandoned them
for full, lush Southerners

I wonder if they fear
the wretchedness of winter
even as spring bestows life once again
and beauty its favor

I wonder if they wince in budding
not from the pain of new birth
but from dreading
the promise of winter winds

dnr

put me to sleep
make me invisible
send me into the mists

if you love me you will

let me go
let me be lifted up to a place
where i really exist

beyond the veil

you may see shadows of who i used to be
but who i used to be was only a shadow
of the real me

the love was real

it's just that
she wasn't