alone

alone indeed

except for squirrels

the marsh

the Spree

slowly twisting

turning effortlessly

flowing north

I look up

I look down

the river path

and nothing stirs

even the heron

statues

to seduce its prey

I wonder

I just wonder

would anyone miss me

more than for

a short while

perhaps I could

become someone else

or even better

something else

this monstrous beauty

I lean against

broken by storms

split by lightning

a home in home

for the tiniest

to the largest

bald in winter

green caped in summer

spreading my seeds

everywhere

generation after generation

decades nay centuries

lovers will remember

this tree

its luscious bark

its sense of place

a support for loving

silent

alone

alone indeed

except for the squirrels