Tomorrow, there will still be the trees, their shadows on buildings, finely fraying about.
There will still be the birds, hawking about from branch to branch, calling to one another.
And, of course, the sun.
Goddamn you trees, quiet down birds, and, look here, you bastard sun, we just need a moment, okay?
The wind just blew open the back door and our immediate response was “Oh! Hello Brit!”
Whew.
Well, nevermind what we said about you nature. After all, he is part of you now.
It’s just that we’ve probably had more moments of pause and perfect conversation with him than we have ever had with you.
You have the incarnation, we have the stories, the memories.
Let’s make a deal, how about we share?
Wind blown tree shadow on a building, you now get to be Brit Withey telling us about something we absolutely need to see.
Memory of Brit Withey, you now get to be the birds yelping out joy.
That way, we will always hear you and see you in all the everyday of light.
Christopher Dyer
With The Trees – For Brit Withey
