Fever Tree

The fever feels like its in the brain
frentic, wild, pulsing, alive
dancing in an orgy
of laughing crying deamons
it conjures a incessant kaliedescope
of snapshots that are not quite memories
i walk the rooms, empty house
holding the silence by hand for company
i here the bricks
sing lullabies
and tell of u
when i couldnt see
this is the house
these are the rooms
these are the places
you lived without me
now, years away,
ur loneliness lives here with me
the window runs open
the swing screeches gently
the pink ropes it hung by swing slowly in my mind
i remember, where and when
and why
a christmas tree
dairy milk
a trip, a place, a region
the last laugh
the last flight
and a tree with rot in the seed
and a tree doomed to be
just a skeleton tree
just a ghost of a tree