Where the beaten, acorn littered
Path divides itself into two
beside a thorny skin ripping
leafless bush.
A small weed concealed trickle
of a track leads us to the last
reminder of yesteryears love.
Over caved in mole hills
under limbo luring branches
is a sqandron of stern looking
soldier straight trees.
A little behind their line
Is our tree.
Engraved with the words of
sweet young love.
The moss had grown inpatient
and had snuggled itself into
the lettered grooves.
Everything was how we had left it:
Broken branches still hanging
in the silent misty air,
bruised or half eaten berries
still blood red.
Endless tennis nets of spider webs
that sparkled with tiny droplets of dew.
Everything had remained the same
nature had no need to change.
if only we had stayed here too.

Not Long Left

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/v-t-4-e-p-lovers-words-engraved-on-a-tree/