Beech boughs

I've done you a disservice, old friend. Each of your branches are broken, your bark is peeled. Your leaves are browned, and crunch under my feet. I've allowed you to die, almost completely.

But I should set you up again, my dearest memory. I should repair your cracks, soothe your wounds, and grow you new hands.

And I will.

I'm so sorry. Its not that I forgot you, but I was wrong all the same. I threw my every negative emotion at the base of your beautiful trunk, and they soaked into and poisoned your roots. You were always beautiful, eternally under the stars. I just chose to see you all wrong.

Yes, I will restore you.

But, I will sit under you no longer. I will not be able to wait for someone under your beautiful canopy. It is a sad thing, yes, to no longer be able to view the night sky from your safety. But understand, your grassy knoll remains in the same place...and I can't sit still anymore.

I will remember you fondly, dear friend, dear beech tree. Perhaps someday, you will nurture a new beginning for someone else.

But not for me.

Goodbye.