The Lonely Tree that Lit them All.

Today I bowed my head and wiped a drip drop on one sleeve.
I felt so strangely light and crisp; a papery pile; dry, brown leaves.

Willing for you all to rain,to fall, to roll down to my roots

Tomorrow when I feel not full of water, or of life
I'll will myself to self ignite, and all

of me
will
come
to
all
of
you