Trees

In the spring everything grows,

Grass, flowers and trees blossom,

It grows until it’s vibrant green,

Dark scaly oak firewood,

Roots strike in the ground,

Branches stretch out in the wind,

It stands straight,

Then it leans, branches get cut,

The vibrant green disappears, 

    Into dark.

    Winter comes,

     no longer a tree.

Just dark scaly oak firewood,

        with nothing.

     It leans and leans,

    Until it falls.