posted on Mar, 29 2016 @ 08:18 PM
I lean my head against the weeping willow tree.
A million glowing pinpoints dot the breathless evening sky.
The nostalgic scent of fresh-cut grass sweeps away my grief.
Contemplative, almost brooding, I gaze upon the twilight moon.
I rest my head against the weeping willow tree.
A million dancing thoughts race about my lucid mind.
I think of all the friends I have made and those I've left behind.
I reflect upon my family especially those no longer here.
I fall asleep against the weeping willow tree.
A million complex fleeting dreams ebb and flow against my soul.
I'm a soldier fighting in an ancient war, a survivor running for his life.
I'm any number of imagined things, I'm a father, son and brother.
I wake against the weeping willow tree.
A million flecks of nascent sleep speck my field of view.
The nostalgic scent of honeysuckle brings me great relief.
Contemplative, almost brooding, I shield my eyes against the rising sun.