When the Trees Begin to Weep
The colors change—
as does my face.
The days grow shorter,
as do my years.
The trees begin to lay bare,
just as I shed my former self.
Leaves collect on the ground,
like my tears on your graves.
The wind is colder now,
like the world we should have shared.
The holidays are approaching,
as are the days rooted in grief.
When the trees begin to weep,
the world remembers what it’s lost.
Each leaf a whispered elegy,
each gust a sigh of time gone by.
I light a candle for each of you.
Fall is here again—
and with it,
another year without you begins
This is very preciously touching. I can almost hear you tell me this as you sit across the table from me. I can see the tears and the grief in your face, your eyes. Beautifully written. Thank you for telling us about the grief at the loss of Davian and Jadon.