I

formally apologize

to characters I've met

To ignorantly burn through them

Like Camel cigarettes-

It's not

the

Sympathy

that you deserve.

You grow and change, but I am

she who tosses seeds to the wind

without returning to her tree

Levels, like stairs

In your unweary cares

I have dared to stay and find.

I wish I could say that.

No, for habits old,

Of the good fruit and the stress-easing stick

take the ashes,

And the rind.