The Tree
The trees are barren,
Lifeless and dead.
Squirrels scavenge on the parking lot,
Looking for sustenance
That cannot be found.
All the trees are without leaves
Except of course the evergreens.
Birds perch in the highest evergreen they can find,
Sheltering from the wind.
The mud slides and squishes under my feet.
The creek babbles along,
And the lake ripples in the wind.
My dog barks,
And I follow him to a fallen tree,
It's roots stuck way up in the air.
The other trees may be
Barren, lifeless and bare,
But this tree...
This tree is dead.
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