Trees

Oh, the sound of leaves rustle,
Different from city hustle and bustle.
Leaves dry, orange, or lush green,
Almost everywhere trees are seen.
Some are short, some are up high,
Feels like they could reach the sky.
Some bear fruit, none in some,
Moving makes a melodious hum.
Changing form, season to season,
Rooted to ground, they can’t run.
Giving shade to creatures beneath.
Standing still through bitter cold and sweltering heat.
It isn’t easy, life as a tree,
It gives home to birds and bees.
Standing still, tall and high,
When it’s chopped, it finally sighs.
What have I done for this?
Did I not provide you with bliss?
Why have you chopped me down?
When my leaves protected you from the sun like a crown!