So much promise, so much ahead
But that was then
When vows assured a hand to clutch
In sickness and in health, a loyalty till death

There it is — the tree
Where the two both stood, and promised and promised
There they are — his drawing pad and pencil box
And pencil, ready for magic
Ready to fix the world on a page
Creating temporary permanence, as pencils do

Maybe that was the problem, he thinks
A frightened couple drafting pencil vows

Two squirrels whip around the trunk, chasing and chasing each other
Surely there’s a price
Surely their claws pierce the bark of the tree
If he were closer, maybe he could see a bit of sap oozing out

In swoops a hummingbird
Whirring and whirring, dozens of times a second

Maybe that was the problem, he thinks
They worked too hard, scribbled too fast

In swoops another, twig in beak
Constructing a nest for the so much ahead
He stares down the page, pencil in hand
Ready to draw Eden
A pencil to clutch
In health, and in sickness of the heart

Maybe he’ll never know why
Maybe she was right
Maybe he shouldn’t think so much

He snaps it, snaps his pencil
And just like that, the squirrels lose interest in the chase
The hummingbirds stop beating their wings
The nascent nest collapses
And finally
Finally
He can see the sap
Crying and crying from the tree