Where once we lay entwined in love’s embrace
Among the gnarled and twisted limbs of oak
The tree house is a sentinel of grace
Of secrets spent and words we never spoke
We learned the ways of life among the boards
While yielding to the gravity and need
Our tender hearts enraptured by the chords
And overwhelmed by sweetness, lust and greed
The woodland is reclaiming what was ours,
The boards are rotting, roof is caving in
Morning Glories decked by soft blue flowers
Are trailing up the sides like living skin
I clear the leaves away from your head stone
And leave the woods as I came in, alone
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