Slashed straight across,
split, stacked, corded, loss.
No more gnarly, twisted limbs.
No more waves, nods, bare and slim.
Moving along that curvy road,
understanding grew between dead and souled.
Once weekly we acknowledged each other,
empty, dry, haunt-of-wood and I, sister, brother.
On the swoop of a curve,
a wide expanse, rattled one’s nerve.
Except for tall, weather-beaten giant,
he’d seen sun, wind, storms, and stood defiant.
The moment I saw him laid to rest,
a small pain spread warmly through my chest.
An ache, a prick, of beauty lost and gone,
wisdom, solace, and strength, now wind’s song.
The next pass I made the sadness was less,
still sat the bones, remnants, dusty mess.
However, a thought of Amish toes by a hot fire,
a child cheered with warmth, flickers to inspire.
My friend still lives, not gone forever,
memories and warmth, our lasting treasure.