Something that Died in December

I have the least community
Of anyone I know, the emotions of a poet
I was once a green branch in the wind

The reed that bends from a drop of water
I am it seems, too far from home
To remember the language

Of that strange gathering, how you held
The tambourine, love’s king
Never wept for me, I did not stop anywhere

For long, like a lonely light-footed nomad
I was as the breeze, which carried
The ocean inside of it, so beneath

The ability to love, the duty to stay
Nobody loved me back to my senses
Instead, they smiled at me like a lost cause.