FallenNear where it fell lays the yellow log
glowing eerily in the fog
Surrounded by orange trees straight and tall
The fallen now a home for insects to crawl.
Once it stood true and straight
but it was too heavy a weight
to maintain a height that reached the skies
now half buried in the ground it lies.
But on the fallen grows new life
ferns with tips sharp as a knife
for the fallen one sits and cries
but life on and around it still multiplies
There is eerie beauty if closely you look
life regrows in and around every fallen crook.
Poetry by liz munro
Read 323 times
Written on 2020-01-15 at 03:55
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