Dearest,
Have you ever noticed dead trees?
Every landscape I've captured they always seemed to be my focus.
Fallen giants yet still standing, refusing to fall back onto the ground that birthed them, a long time ago. What is it that keeps them upright, even after their decease? But foremost, what was the cause?
The answers might be simple but I'm afraid they won't satisfy me. Perhaps I just don't want the burden of having to put effort into finding my answers.
Instead I will continue to be aware of their presence, wondering what they have been and what they will might become.
After all, I, too, might become a dead tree in the landscape of someone who's willing to be aware enough of my presence.
YOU ARE READING
Letters to unknown
Poetry*working on a better description* You can interpret the letters however you want. My only perspective is wlw. If you see any grammatical issues let me know (English isn't my first language). But also feel welcome to give some constructive criticism...
