February branches
hang dry
and barren
empty and sad
memories of glory
gently pulse
through deep roots
of knowing
made for more
whispers the wind
and birds perch
as a reminder
but the call
of death
feels simple
and close
February branches
hang dry
and barren
empty and sad
memories of glory
gently pulse
through deep roots
of knowing
made for more
whispers the wind
and birds perch
as a reminder
but the call
of death
feels simple
and close