Dead Branches

Oh! Thee fair.
You barren branch.
Your death tells tales of time.

You creak and groan and crack
where once you'd swing and sway.

Your brittle breaks
and jagged ends
signal your end of days.

The vines will climb
into your peaks
and pull you down below.

Return to dust
from whence you came.

Arise new growth!
Ye fine and fair
Reach for the blue
the sun
the sky
the world is yours
go flourish now.