In England, Thinking of Women (Three Months Later)

I saw a tree outside my window as I smoked a late night cigarette, thinking about that girl, which seemed more vivid and clear than its surroundings. Although not much larger than a sapling and in a clear, open area it stood still and proud under an orange lamplight. Seeing that tree alone and proud I was not sure whether to feel happy, sad or empty. Maybe it was just a fucking tree.