Evergreens don’t drop their leaves,
but everything green bows down eventually
like his eyes did that summer
with velleity
and heavy humanness.
Beneath the bending conifers that melted into the sky
he waited for you to arrive on the promise you had made.
But they would sooner relinquish.

Amidst the pining, still trees of sinless peace,
the nature of what could have been hung in the air.
Haunted by sunlit memories and colored by regret,
his head lay in his hands, waiting for you.
Perhaps he is bound to hold those leaves forever,
battling the heavy bleakness that will soon rest atop,
while you drop all yours,
and set yourself free.