The lady in the tree

There was an old lady who sat at the tree.
The tree in the ally, the ally that grieved.
A rope dangled down as she prayed her goodbye.
I sat there and watched her fly up to the sky.

Many years later I walk to that tree.
A new rope each time, I counted, 1, 2, and 3.
The many lives lost I look back at her rope.
Soon to be mine I gave up all hope.