It is the biggest thing around,
The landscape peeps not a sound.
It stands at fifteen feet tall,
Everything else compared is so small.
It’s branches hang loosely.
It stands alone in a field of grass,
The giant freak is an outcast.
The grass around is strong and healthy,
The tree is dead and erie.
The only thing you see.
The sun sets in background.
Because it should be crowned,
For it is the Mighty Dead Tree.
3/21/06
© Jordan Simon
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem