There was a tree, an old ever ascending tree, and with all its splendor it stood in my yard. My back yard.
And on its branches sat a boy. A lonely, naive, young boy. He was growing, but his mind layed still with his thoughts. And I, the broken, coming of age girl, what could I do but stare, just watching this set, like a play that plays itself. I was no better, though I could've joined him in his melancholy, flowing like the wind through that ancient tree's leaves.
I was just a girl, he was but a boy, nothing but lone strangers. But in our minds we were part of something bigger.
Love & Autumn Colors,