Like twin tornadoes they touch down,
Scratching across the countryside,
Bending the trees in their wake.
They dance their horrible dance,
Coming closer to each other,
Seeking the one.
Each tree shudders at their passing,
Hoping they won't be singled out,
Twisting at their touch.
The eye of the storm is no refuge,
A single tree uprooted,
Torn from the firmament.
The world itself breathes a sigh of relief,
As the tree is cast aside by it's captors,
The sun glints off the ground in the clearing.
