The weeping tree never so brutally
wept
With her branches under water
And the current so painfully strong.
Bent.
Swept, leapt, the leaves never so upset
As wind creeps fast through the
cracks
And splashes wet on my skin.
I beg the ocean of gust not to break
The weeping tree down to the bottom
My tears may change the current
-
Not yet.
Maybe tomorrow.
