Serena Malcolm

In a clearing stands a hollow tree
that has long since lost its crown of leaves,
Its bark is cracked from weathered storms,
Its brittle branches – gnarled, forlorn –
lay battered, scattered all around,
And when they fell they made no sound,
For this broken tree stands all alone,
Splintered, fractured, stripped to bone,
No more birds to nest, nor squirrels to hide
their winter bounties deep inside,
No more lovers shade, no more children climb,
Its very worth laid waste by time,
This forgotten beauty – sapped of life –
shrinks by day and fades by night.