falling home

 

I saw her today
so quiet
& soft
a somber ghost
of her former self

the pine trees
no longer whisper
& cold, black fingers
hold up a heavy
December sky

her heart lies fallow
born of Winter's burden
the blood pools like sap
in her limbs
& in her chest

& I see her die
her little deaths
knowing
the sun will rise again
without her

for her roots too
are infinite