On a dark open hillside stands a lonesome tree,
nursing a rotting apple in its branches.
Cradling it in a basket of dieing leafs,
drifting down to the roots from the wind.

Dead land surrounds and darkened skies,
crying on a barren cold spot of life.
The bark looks so withered and broken,
gently swaying in the earths whisper.

A sweet melody played in hollowed skins,
lullabys even the blackbirds can fly too.
feed away at my branches and falling leaves,
just dont hurt my precious rotting apple....

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pretty cool. I like imagery.

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That was cool. I picked a couple Romes off one of my trees yesterday and I'd noticed how misshapen some of them were so this was even more picturesque. The imagery and flow was very good. And oh, bless you for not doing the same ole humdrum type thing. Sometimes dark pieces get so narrowed here it's hard to seperate them and keep from getting bored reading.
Very nice one.

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