A few lines written upon 'talking in their sleep'

'Ýou think
I am dead?
Reading Edith,*
Do you think
I have become leafless a tree
Of winter
With withered grass
Under my feet?'

The tree
Asked me,
Her branches mossy brown,
Her trunk with no leaf,

I looked at her melody,
And thought how she had gathered dreams
Of Edith
Much like me,

So with softer tune,
I took graphic art
To cover her winter
With words,
So with rhyme
I took a dream that could underline
The leafless shape,
So with color
I thought of filling her,

For Edith
Was there
In between us,

And winter awesome
I dreamt to make for her, just.

(* Edith M Thomas, a poet,
'Talking in their sleep', is a poem by Edith,
The picture attached is a media art, done upon an illustration, by me.)