The Climbing Tree

Standing alone at night  
Still and weak, 
At the back of a young, luscious park 
Sits a senior Tree 
Sad and alone – more than ever before 
Surrounded by nothing more than bushes and small plants 
He remembers the youthful children 
Who climbed his sturdy branches 
They read books in all the Tree’s nooks and crannies 
Where did all the children go 
Was he forgotten?