Decaying Oak
Decay, decays?
Never, this oak lives forever!
Bit by beetle bugs that on me did graze.
Birds my bark did sever.
A broken twig pointed the way of my decline.
Twisted limbs, fungus, and burls strained this trunky spine.
Termites made my hollows to whine.
Leaves lost their grip, falling, as I, over chill days.
Date: 06/14/2019
Contest: Writing Challenge 1, June 2019, Crumbling Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Dear Heart
Copyright © David Drowley | Year Posted 2019
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