The Death Of A Tree

The tree is about to die

Withered and dried.

The last root holds on

To the soil, about to give up the futile struggle

To breathe a bit more.

The leaves have crumbled;

But somewhere among the debris of death,

The tree faintly anticipates –

A drop of rain will fall.

Not that it will revive the dying tree

But a thought can make the pain of death

A little less severe-

"After all, the rain did not forget."