Driving past the light
Of hearth and home
You think of hopes
Hung on trees
Long since dead.

You fought in many
Biweekly garland wars
And hoped most days
They'd subside 
That the sacrifice 
Made the flowers grow
And they did
 Smell so sweet
And you learned about peace.

Farther still in the distance
You recall the last best hope 
Of your past life
She held your secret.
You held onto her 
Like a crucifix.
And some say
 She set you free.

You see now dead trees.
They grow mushrooms
House birds
And feed many things
You see now fertile ground
And a broken branch in the mire
Preserved forevermore.