Yours
Were I not yours, do you believe
You would have indulged me? The trees
Seem to agree, waving their
Bracken arms above their heads; they’re
Sure I am just abandoned leaves.
I fear abandonment, conceive
Your boredom echoing clear, achieve
A quick heart. Would you think me fair
Were I not yours?
Stretching and moaning, we the trees
Concede our doubt, our falling leaves
Will prove to you concern for tears
In bone and thought. Are we a pair?
Were I not yours?
Justine Bienkowksi
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