The Sycamore Tree

The leaves fell on the meadow
from the giant Sycamore Tree.
And no one was round
to hear the sound
of the woodpecker tapping
on the old, big tree.

It probly stood there
for round a hunerd years.
But now it's grey
with swollen bark,
and can't sway in the wind
no more.

No one will miss it
when it's gone.
It just stands there
all alone -
and
forlorn.

It will turn into garbage
for the grubby worms.
The leaves and bark
and limbs and roots
of the Sycamore Tree.

And again some day,
in its place,
there will spring up
a new, young 
Sycamore Tree.