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The Trees are Weeping

I watched a news story concerning the decline in Europe of the Ash trees last Autumn

The Trees are Weeping

The trees are quietly crying today.
They weep for the Ashes, or so they say.
From Denmark it was sighted,
English Counties have been blighted,
It's cursed, they said on the news.

Their tears are falling to the ground.
Waterfalls of leaves, russett and brown.
Who cares for them, or even gives a hoot?
Why, we do, of course. They're under our boots.

Their tears are dropping all over the World.
Far away from Spring when their leaves were unfurled.
We see them but not, a sound can be heard,
except for their flutter downward undeterred.

Watch all your children outside now today.
See them all gambol in the tears as they play.
Running, jumping and kicking them about,
buried by their friends, then leaping back out.
They don't really know, or care don't you see?
For to them they're just leaves,
and not tears from the trees.

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