The Memory of A Tree

I have seen for some time the changing of the world.

Things rise and fall, cities come and empires go.

In my vanishing forest; green turns to yellow and red and finally to dark brown. A slow fade into winter.

My roots have roamed the rich earth for centuries, but, I sense a new kind of change.

Now I stand in this emptiness with no kin around me and loneliness spreads over me like moss.

Oh, how I miss the Spring of this world — before they came to ruin it all.