The Tree Outside My Window

Stands rustic and tall this year

As if the color has been locked

Away from view or hidden

In a drawer with old linen and

Lingerie of a former time

“Are you sad that

This may be our last year

Together?”

Were you hoping

I would be looking out at you

Forever

Or did I not open the blinds

Enough and stare out at you

This year?

I can only say, I’m sorry.”

Reflection:  My degree will be completed next spring.  Will I be moving? Where will I decide to call home?  Will I not see the tree burst into fall colors again.