Dear Kathryn

I’ve seen this coming,

It’s been so long now,

So long since it first began.

Our separation, my isolation,

So long since it first began.

The smallest changes signaled the start

Of our slow,

Steady ruin.

Slow and steady

As is the decay of the tree

-Three hundred years old-

After days of lying on the ground

In the soil

After the storms have weakened its roots

(After years,

Years of rain and wind).

So before its bark rots away completely,

I’ll carve the letters into the old oak tree

To spell the word “alone”:

Another night with only damp

Leaves to keep me warm as I lay under a deep

Open sky, its arms open wide, but

Nothing will change, because I still hopefully wait in vain for you to change; so here I wait for the

Epiphany.

The epiphany, the realization that we will never have again

What we once had.

Carve the letters into the bark of the old oak tree,

Carve then in for the sake of remembrance.

For after you, I’ll truly have

Nothing.