The Stories In Between

There is a walk I know, among the trees How much you always loved the solitude The dry, fallen leaves cracking beneath our feet An

In this I have become Plucked from sanity’s embrace Ungrounding, unfurled Wrought from fever and disgrace In each step through Cinder and ash, my becoming

In this room, is one of four walls Where there once contained A great picture window I would stare as the sun shone through At