You were my worst critic and you were supposed to be my champion.

.
                    Time,
                    space
           ­         and everything in between.

                    Heartaches,
                    tea­rs
                    and secrets that don't come clean.

                    Gambols,
                    laughter­
                    and smiles beaming keen.

                    Deep thoughts,
                    aloneness
                    and the dark places we've been.

                    Handholding,
                    carel­ess hugs
                    and ready shoulders to lean.

                    Reckless stabs,
                    impulsive jabs
                    and caustic words we don't mean.

                    Contentment,
                    count­ing blessings
                    and hope we can glean.

                    You,
                    me
        ­            and everything in between.

.

The sun set beautiful
Red and orange
Mixed across the sky

Keith Wilson April 2017

Tell me the story
About the war
And the mother
Who used to worry
Under your branches
About her son so far
Away from her
In the trenches

Speak
About the two lovers
Who used to coddle
Each other
Next to you
Who carved their name
On your trunk
Who promised
To remain
A couple
Forever
And never let
Their flame
Fade
And wait
Until the war
Comes to an end
So they can
Wed...


Tell me
Of the little girl
Who used to scream
And jump
Around your trunk
And sometimes pump
Into you
So that you
Would rain
A few leaves
On her hair

What about...
The fire!
Who brought you hell
So that
You can’t tell
All the secrets
You know
To the crow
And inspire
The young men
Sitting there
To write stories
About you

Tell me
Tree
About your story..

Why an emptiness within
with the summer wind
blowing away the dust

Why the mute tears
we weren't friends for years
but came together awhile

The earth doesn't pause to grieve
but in the heart of hearts
when a good friend leaves
the void for lifetime hurts.