There was a tree
On the hill,
And I would watch a beautiful girl
Never quite sure if she was enjoying
Or the summer day.
But one day, the tree stood
Atop the hill,
And I watched as its leaves
And blanketed the ground.
Wrapped in that blanket,
And gazed at the January sky
Through the holes where the leaves
And for the first time in my life,
I cried for that fragile memory.