The bedroom window frames the backyard.
Blue sky, green grass, old oak tree.
Once, a tire swing dangled from its strongest branch.
I cannot think of the right words.
Once, a boy scaled its wide trunk.
I cannot express the whirl of emotions.
Once, a family held a picnic under its canopy.
I cannot ease the heartache or escape the sorrow.
Once, a girl used its shade for her pet hamster’s funeral.
I am not stronger or better or hopeful.
Once, a mother watered its thick roots with her tears.
The bedroom window frames the backyard.
Blue sky, green grass, old oak tree.