through the window

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.