Splintered wood and fallen leaves

two tangled fallen trees.

The one I love

and one above.

Ripped from the dirt,

fallen to earth.

A cold stone bed,

a path of sea.

a resting place for the fallen tree.

Dry leaves crackle in a soft sea wind.

Branches, dead, yet strong here lay.

In time the tides will carry away

leaves that once grew here.

Walking down the rocky shore

I see something I hadn't before.

A bright summer green,

Some fresh new leaves!

Though life has left the tree ahead,

a tiny part is not yet dead.