Your (our) tree
There are particles of you
in the backyard tree,
I can see your eyes looking at it
and listen to your sigh
reaching the fresh blooming leaves.
The mark you did with your pencil
is a little fade out but I can feel it
do you still remember?
maybe the roots will wake up
your old secrets or dreams.
And the flowers you touched
are impregnated of your atoms,
its fragrance is now a mix of yours
and when everyone touches it,
will be a mix of everyone.
When the flower withers in winter
and its poor petals touch the ground
it will bury every moment with it,
the copy only living on the living
who once admired its beauty.
By dabi