I stand alone
In a clearing.
The trees around me
Droop down
Touch the ground
Mourn and cry in the wind.
I shiver
As the cold light
Lays my hazy shadow
Upon the uncontrollable
Wild plants .
I step towards
A weeping willow.
The fragile wildflowers
plead with me
Set them free
From the hard cold ground.
I pick a flower
raise it to my face
And enjoy its fragrance.
As I approach the tree
I discard the petals,
Its life torn off
From the ground it needs.
Other flowers catch my eye
But I crush them
Not knowing why
As I pass them by
To reach my tree.
The wind gusts through the tree
And the branches whip
Across my face
As I realize that once more
I am alone.

29 May 1988