SECRETS

 

There is a tree in the park

                                                      It’s old and scarred

But, oh the stories it knows

Of secrets carved

In it’s grey, gnarled trunk

The shade beneath it’s bough 

Is cool and inviting 

The wind whispers softly 

Stop and rest awhile 

My shadow slips away 

As I sit in the sweet grass 

My fingers trace the old wounds 

Initials captured in a heart 

The words of love

The vows we made 

I imagine I hear the old tree sigh

I remember you 

Your secrets I know

Your secrets I keep 

Janice Kuykendall