Tuesday, 22 January 2013

why do trees exist?

Laid bare like skeletons with non-existent closets,
bony structures of wood,

exposed, without cover
branches stretch over each other
shielding each other like lovers

their secrets scattered on empty streets,
yellow from exhaustion,
brown from exuberance,
all shades of truth on display

before they're whisked away by the wind
into other dimensions
because truth is the battery of the breeze

Leaving the tree to grow truth once again
Carry the burden once more,
and shed it all again