Life has slowed and narrowed…
so it seems…
Mom’s tree silhouettes the sky…
here and there…
leaves,
brown and gold,
silently quiver.
Lying in her bed,
resting in her chair,
sitting at her table,
she gazes at her tree,
through the seasons.
I worry…
Is she withdrawing
from life?
Then I wonder…
maybe it’s
the other way around…
Is she embracing life
in a way I have not?
So we sit together
with her tree.
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