I’ve been living in this apartment for over twenty years, and this branch has been hanging in front of my bedroom window for at least half that time—ten years. I’m not superstitious, but it is a mysterious looking branch. When I wake up in the morning it is the first thing I see. And when I go to bed and the moon is bright, it is the last thing I see. Well, here’s a poem—Oh Branch.
Oh, big dead branch.
Will you fall to the ground?
Or will you remain for me
to look at every day?
Why am I so intrigued with you?
Why do you remain from year to year?
Why am I so attracted to you
when I look out my window?
Oh, dead branch,
please go away—or give me a wish today.