Finished early, walked along side the fence
dragging my fingers across the steel.
The cuts were less appearent then I'd planned
in the last chapter, there, always glancing back at me,
'retubution' echoing in some still fashion. But not today.
Today I walk. I should have brought you here instead,
in fact I could still.
Of course It won't be the same now that the trees
are gone and you along with them.
I guess I'll never really get over what happened here,
you know, us, bringing life to something that can die so easily.
I remember once leaving it in the back seat
of your car or truck or whatever it was.
Feeling broken in half, like I imagine an old vase
or a coffee mug might feel, no longer able to serve its only purpose.
I mean, I suppose you can glue it back together
but the pieces won't really ever fit the same.
I keep walking, hand on the fence, and my eyes,
I feel them flex and focus, "back to real life"
I say out loud to the audience of shadows that bend
and peer around the objects that they're bound to.
I stop, face them and graciously bow. They applaud.
I imagine the grand shadows that might have also
been applauding had the trees still been standing.
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