It Stands Tall.

It stands tall.

Fifty feet above the ground.

The strong, thick,

Dark brown tree trunk

Attached by its roots

Holds it still.

The wind flies through the

Dark green leaves

As they flutter around.

Some fall off

As they touch the grassy floor below.

A storm starts to brew

Above the dark green leaves,

Letting dusk give an eerie feel.

The wind picks up

And rocks the branches.

However, the strong trunk

Holds its ground.

The clouds above

Grow a dark grey.

Thunder is heard far behind.

Lightening soon shoots from the sky

And falls down to the earth.

The rain starts to fall,

Flooding the soil.

Pouring,

Pounding rain.

Drenching every leaf.

Every branch.

Yet the tree still stands tall.

The storm moves on,

Finished with the tree.

And as the sun,

Once again,

Reaches the tree,

The wind dies down.

It stands tall.

Fifty feet above the ground.

Jennifer Gioia (c) 2011

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