Handkerchiefs were drawn, everyone seemed to have one. I watched tears glide down the cheeks of Oenone’s loved ones as her coffin was lowered into the cruel dark ground. Her ceremony came to a beautiful conclusion as a simple tree  was planted as grave stone. Long years brimming with bills, firings and arguments passed. The only place I could go to clear my heavy mind was the park. I spent most evenings walking through, breathing in the crisp air. When one day the tree that had been planted for Oenone was suspended in the air by a huge, grey hand.