Something missing

I’m trying to work out what makes you tick
He said
Looking across the living room of his Gangster flat

There’s something missing
- My daughter this time
Sitting awkwardly in an out of season seaside bar

It wasn’t meant to happen

Those great spreading trees in whose shade
we are made and nurtured
Whose presence is the canopy of the world
No beginning, No end

From this place I find myself gazing into open sky

My brother dead at 24
Silenced for evermore

And yet

To see a great tree fall

The empty sky will not be filled
in my time

I sit
knees drawn up
Back tight against the bark
of the last living tree

And weep uncontrollably
in the cool of its decay