I took a walk to clear my head
of wrongs unjustly laid on me
and saw a thing so curious
it made me stop and think.
Broken, bent, and laid to rest
Shadowed by its brother’s branches
A fallen tree rotted.
Ice cracked its softening bark,
it lay across my path.
How did this tree fall from grace?
What force knocked it from its perch?
The snow-filled cracks in its wooden frame
were wounds from battles long forgot.
Perhaps the wind tore it up
roots too weak to withstand the force.
In the howling storm, it fell,
shaking the ground as it landed.
Or maybe death came from within
a vicious bug or deadly illness
accosting it in silence until the day
it collapsed from exhaustion,
Disturbing the peace with its demise.
Soon this tree will rot away.
Time has already begun its work.
Mighty wood cracked and crumbled
as moss and mushrooms wait for spring to sprout.
I contemplated this fallen beast
That lay across my path today
A rotting corpse that made me think
Life’s too short for petty rage.
Will Fall Writings 