Seasons Hence

A tether deeper

The Xs fall beautifully

Criss crossed through your line

Stuff can be two things

In simultaneity

Perhaps three or four

So I imagine

If I were a simple tree

Our grandmas watered

The sun is shining

They knows these leaves are not theirs

Falling each Autumn

The branches laid bare

But they cultivated roots

Even in Winter

For Summer would come

And they knew this tree would sing

After they were gone

It would sing of Spring

And would never stop singing

Of love true and real

You twinkled in them

And so did the promise known

I would not let go