A path, long and winding,
So long since trod upon, green shoots have sprouted
Across its direction
And now sway softly,
Interrupted only by weeds and thistles
Accidentals in the melody
The embowered arch of canopy
Branches with reason above,
Lending only pin pricks of light
Dropping down like cold, sparks of rain
To the plain below itself
I know the journey will be long,
And as I step cautiously through the wefts of green
Remembering each flower,
Each drop of dew, each curve of fruitful branch
But at the end, waiting for me with a knowing smile
And a wise nod,
Will be the faded sepia of myself
And so I will leave you here,
Standing guiltily with a hollow heart,
As you watch me make my way into the tunnel
And know that in spite of the bitterness between us
you will miss me,
Really.
You will miss me.
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