Gray-brown bark like dragon scales woodland’s earthy mossy trails leaves that drizzle autumn sun to dapple grasses newly spun I see you leaning by a tree standing mute, a filigree of dampened, straggled matted hair all bathed in tepid valley air now bending down, you squint and peer you mouth some words and wipe a tear a stone beneath the powdered dust with metalled words unloved by rust a faint prayer carried on the breeze that filters through the verdant frieze you run, barefoot, your spirit free and leave behind what once was me.