Let the Trees Teach a Lesson

Teal titans stretch above the fray, so sure they won't be swept away. Like Aesops' ant, they don't prepare for chilling end in winters' stare. Their colors burst and start to run. It hits them hard that life is done. As drill-bit winds and fading light Force feathered song to hasty flight. Brisk crimson billows blot the street, Then clot in brown piles at their feet. The snap of bark, slim tendrils flail as veins gone cold begin to fail. Numb fingers scrape the windowpanes to snatch what little heat remains. From frosted windows' golden glows, we cowards peek as each one goes. They plea for help in eerie moans. We can not help. They die alone. Such public death, not for the proud, White winds will wrap their silver shroud. Their lesson stands for all to see- Might we die too, with dignity? But even more, they seem to say- Be ready when it comes our way.