The Falling Trees
They never fall for nothing
they fall because they know
because the earth is shifting
and something waits below
The crack is not a warning
it’s more a last regret
the limbs reach out for nothing
the ground is cold and set
No bird will sing above them
no fox will make a den
the rot begins in silence
and spreads through where they’ve been
They stood too long in knowing
they watched and held their breath
too proud to bow to weather
they made a deal with death
And when they fall, they whisper
they whisper things we’ve heard
but claim we can’t remember
not clearly, not in words
The path they block keeps changing
the light forgets their face
and though we say we’re moving
we’re always in stay that place
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (4)
Food for thought, thank you 🫂😘
I Agree with Mike you gave us a lot to think about with this one.
💖💖💖💖Awesome💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖
Some great words to ponder on here