Jim's Song
The worst thing in the world
Is stolen love
A sleepless night where you are
Overwhelmed with grief and gratitude
They sink you into the dark
Grief is desolate beauty
A crimson fire screaming itself hoarse
Its beauty is blinding
Its destruction is great
Charred skins of long oaks
Tended to for decades
Flutter past as you slouch down, sobbing
No leaves, the remaining are off the tree and toasted
They are still warm to the touch