it was the color of ash
not an ash tree
just a dead tree
its bark came off like vines, crumbly
and insecure
it was easier to climb up than to get down
there was only one branch to sit on at the very top
and the wind swayed the entire fragile thing
but it was possible to make a handhold
by scratching away the ashy bark
to fit my need
i knew why you didn't come up
it was dark
the vines were flaking
and backwards
the branch probably couldn't support our weight anyways
so i sat on top
alone
watching from above
the running horse below
escape a lasso
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