Strolling swift through thickets of brush bends,
I noticed trees rooted oddly in stance.
They seemed to be passing olived amends-
To reason, I gave each a chance.

Not the brush did I hear but the hollow.
There, suffering they stood without cure.
What left but to stretch in poignant wallow?
For on opposite sides of the path they were.

An arch above the way, connecting hearts.
Roots reached to touch; To hold each other.
They could not stand to be apart.
A bow stretched tense; Forbidden lovers.

The gap between too far to bear,
I witnessed whispers of love and care