This elegy is dedicated to the little field behind my house...

Branded, barren, broken, brown

Brittle branches cascade down

Is nature's force sentenced to drown

In tides of stone and shingles?

No vernal flowers dot the hill

Though birds frequent with voices shrill

Something has made the land here ill

And kept it so for years.

But where trees fell and turned to dust,

Bright grasses through the brambles thrust,

Abandoned metal turns to rust-

The hill's awash with green.

Dead bodies bridge the rivulets

Now dry from water flow upset

Left standing is the silhouette

Of fifteen feet of splintered trunk.

Ten years since it has died have passed

Alone it rises o'er the grass

Any day may be its last

And then it too will topple over.

I wish to see this field alive

How I wish I could revive

This place where bats and swallows thrive

But pretty little else.

Brambles, once abundant, died

Planted pines and redwoods tried

But the promising green grass had lied

And shattered verdant dreams.

Branded, barren, broken, brown

All that once grew up came down

In this great earth sentenced to drown

In tides of stone and shingles.

I haven't written a poem in quite a while. o_o Hope you enjoyed it.