Change

At the edge of things there is a stubborn
old tree, and my long limbs struggled
to climb into his arms, always reaching
for the more perfect view. I let him hold me
for an hour or so, dazedly dreaming
of the future waiting for me so far away.
Every change brings some stretching pains,
tears of frustration as you claw at time, but
when you reach the end of something, the salt
transforms to sweet on your tongue if you just
savor it a second.