molting

dehydrated green flakes
crowning the gray dust rabbits
in the forest of
times passed.

the trees seem so sad.
weeping willows sweeping my memories
of branches falling around
domelike

everytime I swing on them they seem new

until I remember
everytime
that its all just the exoskeleton
shed off by the creatures in my life

snake skin

but with patterns so familiar to me
and like always I stop a while
spend sometime with my old skins
and can never part with them

tuck them back away

until the next time I find them
unprepapered
surprised
sad.

but I would never go back.