The soul of a tree that the tree not knows of!
Twisted, weathered
Partially submerged
Or rather drowning
In the water
That became a poison
What once was a life giver
They lay in constant vigil
Not wavering, nor resting..
For a moment
So the leaves could
Engage in a constant happy chatter
With the birds
And dance their limbs
When the birds sang
The sweetest of their songs
And passers by would stop
To admire the beauty
That the tree wore in flowers
Copy right: Image and words: Beena R Feb 2016
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