I miss my tree.

Last night, I thought I have a peach tree and started to cry. Or almost started to cry: tears in my eyes but not on my cheeks. I feel like I’m nearing the end of a long journey by train - there are miles yet to go, but at every stop, I see it closing in: the time when we have to leave each others’ company for the bright and noisy station, to step out alone and be lost again in that crowd.