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
beautiful… love your style.
do check out Jingle Poetry potluck via scent of my heart’s comment and join us today, first time participant are welcome to share 3 old poems or poems unrelated to our theme,
Cheers.
:)
Thank you! (: