Trees,
Beautiful populations
Of green skyscrapers
That last for generations.
Maybe they are
The dominant race
Though they lack voices
Or eyes for a face.
Willows sway
In the slow summer breeze
And in autumn, oak leaves fall
And do as they please.
Trees gently caress
The edges of everything
And they have seemed to hold up
Against what humans bring.
In the end,
Trees bring new life
To everything here
That cannot be revived.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Writing Prompts (and Random Thoughts)
RandomJust a random place to put all the stuff I come up with, including random thoughts, prompts you guys give me, and contest entries. I started this book a long time ago so if you read from the beginning to now, it's like following me through my life f...
