When there is nothing to do.
I think of you.
When I'm down on the ground,
no lift in me,
I think of you,
a tall strong tree,
lay down with me,
you stop for free.
You thought of me.
I wonder if I chopped you down,
or did you lay your branch
your leaves to hear the sound
of my tears drip. They drop.
In the forest, lost.
My land is sand, sift, dried from
past jealousy.