Untitled Poem

Work-induced boredom apparently yields acceptable poetry.

It was there in that early morning* sunlight
that we walked
cold, not enough and too much to be close to one another
you turned and spoke to me, your voice crackling like tinder
crawling across the breeze on weak knees
winding slowly through falling leaves and
collapsing at my ears
You said that the whole world gets tired sometimes
you can tell by the way that it spins
You said that each cloud holds some memory
of some person that nobody knew
You said you saw tears falling into the sea,
and heard each sigh of every tree,
and felt the sadness that lives in me
and oh, how you wished it to change!
So why, then, friend,
when my faded path ended
did you turn and walk away?
All my limbs became branches, restless and heavy
An ocean appeared at my roots
dull with the promises that died in your throat
There in that early morning* sunlight

*tentative; may be changed to "evening"