escapril day 17: grief
There is a tree I used to climb
With sweeping walls of green,
Enclosing me in another world
That only I could see.
Nooks and crannies in the branches
Became shelves to hold my dreams.
Each bough, a room all of its own
In a home (as I had deemed).
I made friends with the butterflies
A splash of orange in the leaves,
I imagined one landing atop my nose
And smiling when it flew free.
Everything perfectly untouched,
No footprints where others had been.
Leaves part into a doorway, a welcome
To a realm for only me.
But one sorry day when I returned,
Only a stump lay in its place.
Silence and I grieved for a lost world,
Trying to fathom the empty space.
If I close my eyes I still can see it –
A world I’ll never touch again.
A relic of childhood, a ghost of a tree,
And only a memory that remains.