Lost to Sighs of the Wind

Here it rests,
Splayed over lawn
Like a drunk old man
Finally lost legs and fallen.

Held fast through tempests
Long before I was born,
Sworn timeless -
Grandness embracing our sky,

Now crumpled, helpless
Across fence, on grass.
Numberless the seasons birds'
Nests were welcomed -
Summers alive with tapping
As woodpeckers hammered
Their homes in its branches,
Leaving as young were
Done with its shelter.

In Autumn, I once watched
A squirrel scamper a limb,
Disappearing, somehow, within.
Their secret's now obvious
As I can see the trunk was
Eaten hollow and empty.

The poor dumb giant
Spoke only when breezes
Animated leaves in evening,
Never given voice of its own
To decry those insults,
Feeding sweet fruit, instead,
To those creatures that ate
Of the strength held within.

Vibrant green life in spring
Was a veneer too thin,
As in living a lie
Finally admitted in sighs
Of the wind.