in times of great stress i find myself scouting out the high branches. subtle shake or sway.
Trouble comes that way.
And a stubborn thatch of leaves left, high above the lake.
Past due. As was I.
Things dissembled. That’s how it felt. Unhinged, de sprocketed, unwove. I remembered feeling wide eyed a lot.
And the days long. Decades of a day. By this abstraction, one month took eons.
Endless Law and Order, staring at the lake. Check for messages. Watch the high branches.
i was securely fastened to my fate. I didn’t like it, but I got it. I dint loiter but I lingered.
Those leaves need fall before me.
They are still there.