Trees of Tomorrow
By Toby H
Old branches whipped in the wind,
Like a wave, pushing ever inland,
New shoots, many of them torn up by the gusts,
Seemingly running, ducking for cover,
Amongst gnarled roots,
The cycle beginning again with the seedlings,
Trees of tomorrow.
Continuous growth, always working, never finished,
Within time, ancient trees splinter and collapse,
To be replaced by the younger,
And then, younger again,
More trees of tomorrow.
The forest, always there,
Always young again,
More trees, for more tomorrows.