Driftwood

The sky cries as my heart aches. Soon the wind will tear through trees Splintering them, Branches cracking, Falling to the ground, Where they will be tossed away, Longing for that sense of belonging They once had. But did they really belong? Would it be so easy to toss away If the branch had really mattered? Like yesterday's paper Its file is archived with others like it, Others whose time was up.

Understanding. Acceptance. But can I? Can I understand the "why?" Accept what's lost, And move on, Born again On yet another tree Where I will sit alone, Outstretched for all to see Yet no one will look?

Fighting for air The waves crash Against the tattered driftwood That was once a woman.