340/365 Shutter release challenge



Just a single tree standing against the clouded backdrop. Who does it whisper to.


With the summer clothes cast

I stand with limps out stretched

Against the painted morning sky

Around me a carpet glistens

like stars laying at my feet

Only whispers from my kin reach me now,

Where limps once touched

across the country wide.

When the winds played,

the rattle of our tongue could be heard.

Now alone I stand

limbs still reach but no touch to be had

No kin with in reach,

Oh to be touched in my last day’s

before decay.