The Summer Tree

In this moment,
I step off the chair
Feel the rope
Pull on my neck
As I swing through the air
On my summer tree.
"Would you kiss me good bye
one last time if you knew?"
I wonder aloud,
To no one.
I am alone.
I am always alone,
As I swing through the air
On my summer tree.

In this moment,
I whisper
"I love you"
Into the silent night
Waiting for an answer
That will never come.
In my last seconds
I imagine you with me.
"I love you too"
You would say,
A tear falling down
Your handsome cheek
As you plead with me,
"Please, don't let go" ;
If only you were really here,
And I was not alone,
Swinging slowly
On my summer tree.

In this moment,
Despite all your fears,
All your pleading,
Crying and tears,
I still feel empty;
Because in this moment,
I remember that you're not really here
And you're just In my head:
A hallucination
A vision
A ghost risen from the dead
And I am still alone as I swing
From a branch
On my summer tree.

In this moment,
Everything comes crashing down
And I wake from my dream.
Closing my eyes,
I wish to return
To the only place
Where I can see you
But the memory is faded
And I've already forgotten
The sound of your voice,
The feel of your skin,
Your pleasant embrace,
And your steadfast love.
But these feelings of sadness,
Are soon forgotten,
All gone;
Faded;
And permanently lost.
So again I am alone,
Swinging beneath
My summer tree.

In this moment,
I return
To my cold,
dead reality,
And I am alone
As I have always been.
Just me,
And my old tree swing,
Quietly sulking in the
Late summer shade.
Just how it's always been.
Just me swinging beneath
My summer tree,
The branches swaying,
My feet dangling,
My body twisting
In the new chilling touch,
Of the dying fall air.

Summer breezes,
Once full of life,
Are now a chilling,
Shocking,
Dead winter storm.
And winter kills
My summer tree.

In this moment,
I glance down,
From the branch
Of my dying summer tree.
I look to see if
I have any company.
I don't, I never do,
For there's only room
For one single swing
On my summer tree.
This time is different
Than all of the others.
You are here with me,
In my head,
And I don't feel alone,
As I swing from my place,
On my summer tree.

In this moment,
I am imagining you again,
Holding me close to you,
Gripping me tightly,
As I swing my last swing,
Breathe my last breath,
And think my last thought,
Of you taking me,
Far away from my
Sickly summer tree.

In this moment,
I picture your face
one last time,
And our last happy moment,
As I finish my swinging;
Close my eyes
Against the stinging
Of the last tears I shed,
On my summer tree.

In this moment,
I hang in the air,
Swinging any twisting,
Alone, and scared.
Just as always,
How it's always been,
On my dead summer tree. 

Guide that inspired this poem: 

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