I hedge, contemplating—
a sweating sky appeared to will us on
heating our loyalty, ensuring friendship
after my departure, remembering
our effort, given dearly
pruning

in the future, plant the dead
there; plant passed sections of
time, and the complications that came
of any blend of love in which I fell
wondering, myself, deeply
pruning

toiling without reluctance
once envelopes saw to my habit
cold days, old fears, and limp problems
all the mistakes of upcoming years
have hastened this day
pruning

drifting issues, written away
the fitting demise of a period spent
waiting angrily earnestly suddenly guiltily;
summers, memories from a younger start,
some still halfway in sunshine
pruning

consider, therefore, this case
something finished: the perfect mistake
feeling like the wind swept in unashamed
entangled relationships, waiting afresh;
however, I hedge, suddenly
pruning