Therese Gramercy . . . the girl named Trees

Bentwood

Sitting

Sitting quietly,
alone,
by my own design.

I breathe deeply,
eyeing
the pure blue sky.

I reflect clearly
on times
when I have cried.

I remember
the love
that passed me by.

I wonder why
I feel
so lost inside.

For in my dreams,
always,
are your loving eyes.