Dead Trees in the Woods

One falls into a Pieta in its neighbor's embrace,
Another sinks through the earth by years, 
Broken fingers clutching grass.
Some are the lichened wombs of termites,
Folded limbs pointlessly praying.

But it is life and death that are dying here 
Among their countless ways of continuing. 
See how green stabs through the broken bark, 
How the bugs ravage that rotting skin
To feed all their shiny young.

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