Bare

My remaining strength is inadequate.
I hold on, brown knuckles white from exhaustion.
The air is so cold,
so mind-numbingly cold,
that my translucent veins feel the same.
My changing feet dangle far above
an inevitable fate.
I braved the sweltering sun,
pelting rain,
droughts without ends in sight.
I now add the occasional flurry to my life story,
debating whether it's one worth telling.
I risk losing focus to peer at the ground
but immediately wish I hadn't.
All of my family, all of my friends --
fallen.
Their waxy green sheens now turned
to hues of sun,
their resilience now brittle
and lives now lost.
I take a final breath
and join them.