-
A form still stands
color etching around
and throughout its branches
we see halfway between now
mountains speaking earth
a camera sensing light
a trees ghost holding friends
words too empty to tell
of all that comes and goes
stands and then sinks back
consumed by nightfall—
perched amidst stars
waiting for one to rise
songs to tempt colors return
from an ignorant abyss—
in this silence
waiting was worth
waiting for
-
