Surreal

Under the
Apple tree
That sits
Alone atop
Of the hill
Where we
Spent every
Summer afternoon
Of our childhood
Were secrets
We buried.
I wished
We could have
Been friends
Forever but
Maybe God
Had other
Plans when
You passed
Away last
Year and so
I unearthed
All of the
Secrets ripped
Them to shreds
And threw them
Upon the
Summer wind.

Originally written
5 March 2006

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