drought

what trees remember is not any act
of humans underneath or close nearby
just the pale colour of the autumn sky
and whether any limbs by wind were wracked
it's been so long since ever thunder cracked
trees know the passing clouds are a bright lie
while creatures of the forest are not shy
knowing very soon they will be attacked
life faces changes that the trees must know
but they say nothing and they never would
speak out of turn avoiding any ruth
they're always here to watch the changing show
silent no matter whether bad or good
and in their silence always speaking truth