Historic Forest

The verdant trees wave to the frosty wind

The wind whispers to the plants as if it was a mother revealing stories

The flowers are filled with the drone of fluttering bees

The aged forest is filled with the singing of birds.  

The trees are decaying, the forest is still

The plants crumbling, mourning to the motionless wind

The flowers are wilting, the forest is speechless

The air is warm and smoky, the forest is perishing.