Carvings From A Point In Past

This mountainside I encompass
Where my memories flicker and fade
I feel the carvings in the tree you left
The fog lifts from where the woodland and sea separate

Sweeping mist from eyes, squinting

I rub my hand over the whittle
Recalling days of future past
The past now befalls the present

Overtaken by blackberry bushes and thorns

I gently brush aside
The tree has sent its shade and leaves away forever
I observe the frozen bleak settling moon

This where our blossom first grew

Under a welcoming warming sun
But in its hallowed loneliness
It has since died like some of life

I came to resurrect some old memories and thought

No compass or map to guide my way
Just quietly listening for those old conversations we had
Nothing on the breeze adrift can I hear

One more glance back at the carving tree before I depart

A small contented smile arises…I have no regrets

Copyright 2015 Wandering Satellite Publishing