The trees dance

                against their

                                will

Forced by the

                cool, gentle

                                breeze

Under the clear

                night sky, the

                                dance continues

                                                with no music

just the sound of rustle

                and fear of leaves

Their cries for help,

                the breeze must

                                feel like a hurricane

                                                to them

But there’s no

                relief team for

                                them that can help

                                                from disasters