In Their Eyes

In her eyes, I see
The latent power
Of a winter’s tree,
Its branches preparing to flower
Come the breath of Spring.

But, in his eyes, I am withered, weak,
Rough bark, no leaves,
I have passed my peak,
No more tricks up my sleeves,
Nothing worth a fling.

My roots, he’ll abuse,
For they’ve already turned gray,
My wood, he will use
For a cold winter’s day,
My insipid persistence, he’ll be deploring.

In the Stars, my fate I see,
My wood burning slow,
The wind blowing free,
The flames lying low,
And my ashes, they are rising.