A dead man stopped me today,
In the big field under the willow tree.
You know,
The one with the tattered rope hanging from it.
And he told me.
"I know what you're thinking."
I stayed silent.
"You don't want to do it. It's not the way."
I just stared.
He sighed and gestured upward.
"That's my rope. My way out. But also the reminder that I gave up."
My eyes drop to the ground.
"I wish I hadn't. There was so much I never did. A lot I never accomplished. I wish every day I'd lived a little more."
I glance over and then step off.
He hangs his head and dissipates.
Later, I return to the willow tree,
And climb it.
I untie the tattered rope, letting it drop to the ground and open my backpack.
It was about time for a new one anyway...