The Blue Elm Tree

Follow me down to the Blue Elm tree
Where the river babbles around your knees
There she waited for him, and him for me
Her eyes screamed ‘robbery, robbery, robbery’.

You remember her swirled in morning mists
As her hair swept over her wistful lips
Wading between the reeds, silent and swift
And in an instant gone was her silhouette.

Slipped upon white eggshell stones
Adorned by layers of moss overgrown
Her bones upon the water did float and roam
Lost to dancing iridescent foam.

If you look in the Blue Elm tree
Though gnarled and white its skin may be
There lies a man in the alcove, collecting debris
Waiting for her, and waiting for me.

Splayed open for all travellers to see
His bones as white as his beloved, deceased
Picked apart by ravens for their winter feast
Scarcely given a chance to bleed.

There will be a day you forget the Blue Elm Tree
But until then will you wait for me?
She lies in the water, transparent and free
He lies in his nook, in her thoughts and my dreams.

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