she talks about
me all the time
the years go by
rings multiply,
she'll be a stump
before she remember
what true friendship
was
i remember
the pressure
that reached my ears
climbing
the highest of mountains
to see her
while she will regret
chasing years
of youth gnarled
into knots
she tries to relive
in her fifties
i am the axe and
i will not let this
tree grow and split
my roads
