Leah

There's beauty in the symmetry—

Branch stacked on branch.

Upon closer glimpse:

The right side,

for its intrusion into home windows,

amputated.

As long as it shall live,

it lives with an amputated right.

It will never see a day of granting,

A day of missing realized. 

This forever amputated tree,

Stopped me in its beauty,

the beauty of its parallel left side.

When will a life like Leah's

strike me as a possible beauty? 

When can a lifetime of missing,

be to me a possible well-living,

the missing side a different kind of beauty?