Tree in Garden

The tree is ten yards into the garden, but I see it as though it were in front of me, every detail – the jagged cracks in the bark, the way its arms yawn and sigh – brushing against my cheek like the wind. But what I see cannot possibly be. The tree is completely hidden in the shadows, and it is dark. The entire garden is dark. Oh look, look at my feet, they’re in the shadows too, I can’t see my shoes at all, and look, further up, I can’t see my knees either. I slowly lift my fingers to my face. All I grab is air. There is no light.