
Fallen, you still are proud.
With eyes wide open, I lean further down,
face almost touching the bark.
The moss is covering your body
and you’re still as stone.
Little buds are spouting from the moss
and mushrooms are growing inside of you,
peeking their heads out of the cracks.
You were tall and dignified when they came and cut you down.
Fallen, you still are proud.
I wish I had known you were suffering. I wouldn’t have had you wait so long .

The featured image was taken by Ann Marie Grumblis. The rest was all me. Hope you enjoy! I love the photo Ann Marie took. It was of an old tree she had to have cut down due to it being ancient, over 100 years old, and breaking apart almost doing damage to neighbors’ property. The picture inspired me to write this poem.




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