Perspective

You find angles queer; so did I,
A tree would bark at time, yet fall;
All it was, a figure enmossed grew,
Then seasons bless day; moved away,
Grief not their way, nor gay pride,
It looked on then chose its roots,
As all the soil ruddied, came one.
That was what none saw.
As memory stubborn, fickle branched,
All attachment as bird feeds attract,
By weight come more thence is lost,
Lay is new weight restored by morn,
Last all peers and shadows pace way,
These are the years once you walked,
As though time graced ere bare disgrace
Look now: motions are brought by blink,
And none more shallow; this gave breath,
By all still trees, a race for breath came new.