We are Slowly Dying
(A response to Thanatopsis)

We are slowly dying
Myself, and these old pines
A little here, a little there
Almost imperceptibly
Death on her cat’s feet comes

I sit with these old friends,
longing their lost limbs
some already fallen
some just now losing needles
like me, my hair

We sit quietly,
Neither saying much
Neither needing to
All has been said and done
Or need never be

Soon it will be time
Signs are certain now
All point in one direction
We, transition forests
Bow to new emperors

We’ve no need to complain
Of bugs eating their bark
Or bugs eating me
It would do no good
So we sit silently

How to end this tale
Now that it's been told?
Perhaps a sweet rhymed couplet?
Or some old musty moral?

The sunset goes down with us.
No meaning does it give us.