SAPLINGS

You were here before me
In this emerald meadow
with its hopeful bluebonnets
and lavish wild roses.

Reaping the bounty
for your own jagged edged vase
overflowing with regrets and fear.
Now this meadow’s broken soil is parched
Starving for nourishment.

I sit on my knees
digging into the soil.
There’s resistance in the dirt
but it slowly gives way with time.

I am tearfully replanting
Not precious blooms, but trees
to last the ages, if I can.
I am here after you, replacing.

I sit at night on the precipice
overlooking this embattled meadow
The wind whispers the tale of woe
while my tears water the valley.
Saplings release a sepulchral incense.