Age
Branches fall
with every gust of wind.
The old oak ages
failing in latter years to bend with the breeze.
In the end the zephyrs break the bough
and to the earth fall the great tree.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.