A Breath From Death

A silver maple shakily took her dying breaths

as an aging elm held his dear old friend up just above the mossy green.

Lovingly he stroked her back

as he sang her the goodbye song of the leaves.

Then, a man came, using what used to be pigmented leafy limbs and strapping sticks

leaning them against the silver maple's abandoned spine.

He built a ribcage he could take breaths in away from a world he felt was rotting.

The carcass of an old friend and a man now forgotten.