The leaves fall slowly as they wither
The tree stands bare, waiting in silence.
It waits the way a mourner waits at a Grave,
Rooted in sorrow,
Watching what will never return.

The wind carries fragments of what was.
A whisper, a touch, a fading sun.
Each branch remembers the weight of their love Summer,
Yet now holds nothing
But the emptiness against the sky.

And still it waits,
Though waiting changes nothing,
Though silence answers nothing,
Though all that once was green
Has fallen into dust.