Skeleton Trees

Skeleton trees stripped to their bones
stand shivering, proud.  What cajones!
They despise being crucified, burnt;
beg to lie down, decay to ashes,
provide for critters and their off-spring.

Some trees dislike being nailed down;
they like having others around.
Skeleton trees hate being plastered,
drowned, planed, to whisper thru thin walls.
They hate the weight on brittle bones.

Skeleton trees once draped in green
of various hues, loved to preen,
hear the chirps of babies at birth,
watch them flounder ... learning to walk, fly.
They miss hearing singing, woods ringing.

Their preferred mound is lush, dense, woods;
next best is rural neighborhoods.
When one succombs, a hush ambles 'round:
another great 'shush' humbles earth, ground.
Treasure trunks, limbs ... rare, precious, bones.

copyright 2009 Sandra S. Corona