The Forest

It was an ancient forest.
The trees in it were
all very different
but somehow alike.
There was one,
dark and towering,
even its leaves
silent in the breeze.
Another, you were afraid
to look at,
in case it looked
back at you, without eyes.
But still it would look.
Then there was a noisy one,
which banged and bashed
in the wind
and was never still.
And leaves fell,
one by one, until
they all stood bare,
losing a little,
with each leaf fall,
stood in a winter coat.
Such wisdom was there
In this forest.
Its trees were all different,
but somehow alike.
All shared the knowledge
that their ending was near.
Waiting patiently
for the bull-dozers to appear.

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