The Dance Of The Trees

In a world of smoke and murk I dance as a performer of clarity.

I used to dance with the people,

I danced in the hot summer breeze

With dry leaves and charred edges

I danced.

I danced in the chilling winter gale

With dew on my leaves

And frost on my roots

I danced.

Now my pores are clogged

And my soil is spoiled and littered with the ignorance of humans.

In the fires of the summer I can no longer dance with burnt leaves

With soot coating my bark,

And ash in my soil

I slowly wither.

I wither with the loss of my wildlife,

I wither as my leaves are choked

And I wither in the sun that scorches my leaves.

As I wither and grow frail,

I can no longer dance.