One Morning

Silence amongst whispers and incandescence

on Saturdays

Where the world can slowly exhale

Across emerald branches reaching out

with hopes to embrace you

But sometimes crumbling at every touch

I feel misguided and forgotten on former

Forests who’ve lost its ability to do

like we used to

Crisper than life freshly baked

Its pain and soreness evident

Remnants remain restless and

, I only open my sight to new days

as you become pieceless