Tree Bow to the River

The waters edges caresses
With its humble waters
Around the fallen tree
Eroded from the waters fathers,

Slowly, softly, silently, slinking
Into the water on its side
As it’s very ground is taken
With time it will slowly die,

The river will take new shape
Splintering into cracks
Swaying around the solid bark
Time not willing to go back,

Eventually forcing its disintegration
As its once sturdy branches fade
And fall to the power of the river
The world will soon forget it to this day.