I remember being a weeping tree
I am writing words for everyone to see.
I am writing a song for a soul unconsoled
And singing about my return from the cold
I am a log burning up with glee

I am this sinking boat, about to flee.
I am this desert, far as the eye can see.
Why am I so torn? Am I being too bold?
I remember

I am this broken branch, withering slowly.
I am a tired, overburdened donkey
Why am I so worn? Am I getting too old?
Why isn’t there anything left to hold?
I’m her ashes, drifting out to sea
I remember

Editor: Erynn Crittenden