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Matchmaker trees,

trunks of knobbly knees,

arthritic twigs,

that creak in the breeze.

A splutter of leaves,

yellowed nicotine trees,

the breath of a smoker,

lets out a wheeze.

We’re dying, they weep,

as autumn does creep,

within crispy veins,

as they lay down to sleep.


© Trees 28.09.2012

By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm


Ash Tree in Fall (Photo credit: hz536n/George Thomas)