In the distance, a solitary tree stands,
stripped bare, unmoved by the slow wind.
Its branches reach toward an empty sky.
Beyond, a vast field stretches,
crossed by narrow roads that lead nowhere.
For a moment, my mind wanders there,
feeling the stillness then it comes back.
Love, I am weary of walking against the sun,
yet morning comes again, softly, across the pane.
Come closer; place your hands here.
Mar 29
Mar 29, 2026 at 2:42 PM UTC
In the distance, a solitary tree stands,
stripped bare, unmoved by the slow wind.
Its branches reach toward an empty sky.
Beyond, a vast field stretches,
crossed by narrow roads that lead nowhere.
For a moment, my mind wanders there,
feeling the stillness then it comes back.
Love, I am weary of walking against the sun,
yet morning comes again, softly, across the pane.
Come closer; place your hands here.
