Driftwood

The sky cries as my heart aches.
 Soon the wind will tear through trees
 Splintering them,
 Branches cracking,
 Falling to the ground,
 Where they will be tossed away,
 Longing for that sense of belonging
 They once had.
 But did they really belong?
 Would it be so easy to toss away
 If the branch had really mattered?
 Like yesterday's paper
 Its file is archived with others like it,
 Others whose time was up.

Understanding.
 Acceptance.
 But can I?
 Can I understand the "why?"
 Accept what's lost,
 And move on,
 Born again
 On yet another tree
 Where I will sit alone,
 Outstretched for all to see
 Yet no one will look?

Fighting for air
 The waves crash
 Against the tattered driftwood
 That was once a woman.