TREE.

The wind blew the tree and the tree danced back

Branches creaked

Murderous crows swooped and squawked

Laughing from above

Black sillouettes on gray pallete

Dappled leaves lazily float away to pile and decay

Bark, withered like old skin

It’s roots twist and turn, burrow into earth and stone

Standing, grown through seasons past

Summers shade winters bones

Then the wind blew the tree and the tree danced back.