I left you before I even got there.
But I remember our last day as
I stopped dead in my tracks to watch you.
Diffuse at first. Birds in the air?
Your signature clarified in the branches.
I diverted that day
and less than three months later
I sat, lost, 10 stories in the air.
Regret was planted
and the harvest has been bountiful.
If we could return to the point of diversion,
I'm not sure if he would follow you,
but I know I would chase you away.
Now, occasionally we read your signature in the branches.
Only then, does my mind cease to wander and roam.
