A boy with a hatchet, a tree and an arm

A boy with a hatchet, a tree and an arm

tied taut to his alibis, for he meant her no harm,

for he knew she would soon, let her branches grow free

but for the time he might rest his eyes in the sea.

With a rust covered anchor and an ax at his side,

his boat would hold steady, through the oncoming tide

as the tree would grow taller and the foxes would dance

the boy thought it folly and scoffed at the chance.

But the boy would grow lonely, and the tree would also rot

Clink! Clink! went his anchor, and away float his yacht.

But now the tree missed the boy she'd once loved,

away, floats his body, away floats her love.