One Wild Stampede - Poem by Ernestine Northover
Along an avenue of oaks,
branches lay strewn upon the ground.
High winds had ripped each from their base,
hurling them madly, all around.
They snapped beneath our tramping feet,
and under wheels obsessed with speed.
Severing leaves with violent force,
then crushing them. One wild stampede.
Chaos everywhere is seen.
Disorder below stately trees.
So sad to see their stalwart trunks,
which gales turned into amputees.
But somehow these tall giants remain,
bringing forth new growth, fourscore.
All that was lost during the storm,
is replenished, just like before.
© Ernestine Northover
Comments about One Wild Stampede by Ernestine Northover
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You