initials in a tree

i see your intitials
carved into the tree
down by the stream
which is full and rolling
with dark water, breaking
white upon the rocks
and fallen limbs,
the thick columns of trees.
of course it might not
be your initials, it
could be anyone's,
anyone at all, but i
know they are yours,
because i took the edge
of a sharp rock and
pressed into the soft
wet bark unitl they
were there. and now
six years later, the light
broken skin, is darkened,
calloused with each day
gone by, as it should be,
no one can live with that
much grief.