You were not meant to do that job.
Bear that fruit. Carry that weight.

You are remembered.
Lovingly. Longingly.

Your fingers reaching skyward.
Wicking light. Exhaling life.

Your limbs, earthward.
Resigned. Relieved.

You were failed.
You were felled.

The weight was not yours to carry.

You were not meant for cutting down.


For Dan, that tree, and you and me.

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