Beastly branches bow above me
like arms that reach wretchedly.
Desperate for the earnest earth
to become their hopeful home,
and carefully cradle them to sleep.

Twisted twigs target the gaps between
like fingers that point pathetically.
They try to force the listless leaves
to feel their sorry struggle,
and then finally fall with unease.

Terrible trunks teeter around me
like bodies done suffering stoically.
They acutely feel their laxing life.
In the way, I watch their forms fall.
Down go those troubled trees.