The Tree

When the fresh air blows,
And the night comes by,
Dreams I dream soar into the sky.
Meet me under the tree,
Then we shall see, the moon begin to rise.

The tree so big, sitting very still,
Is growing lush on top of the hill.
I’ve always said, it’s a good place to go,
We’ll sit and talk, then we’ll know, if everything will be.

I sit under the tree waiting for you to come,
Wandering if the tree you know, is the right one.
Alas! I see a silhouette arriving,
Now my heart is really striving, for you to be next to me.

The shadow arriving looks so much taller,
I remembered you a little smaller.
It doesn’t at all look like you,
What’s going on? Now there are two,
Who could this be?

Cold, eerie chills passed through my mind,
I wasn’t prepared for the news I was to find.
It happened out front of the shop,
They said the car didn’t stop,
This cannot be true.

The two shadows have now left me,
I remained sitting under the tree.
Tears began forming in my eyes,
Your sudden death took me by surprise.

Now that evil night has gone by,
All my dreams fell from the sky.
I went back to hill, planted a new tree,
As I look to the hill, I can now see,
Two trees begin to rise.

Adam Oriti ©

Image source Pixabay