Thoughts of the gentle giants

The wind sways and the leaves sway, casting a shadow across the mossy ground.

 This was when the land was a peaceful mound, this was when times were safe and sound.

 Then the fires came.

They came in great waves that never seemed to name its end.

The creatures that are helping us are sending in great waves of cool that stop the fire.

But they take harmful fuels from the ground and use them to kill our shire.

As they make fuel we get fewer in numbers and eventually, our dire problem causes us to cease.

 They get warmth and we get cold as we get surrounded in mist.

 With the fires and floods we get listed extinct. We are the trees.