Given a name from ancient history, the tree once stood proudly.

But time, death, and loss, has left it standing miserably.

For under the hero’s tomb there lies a place where the flowers never grow.

A land with a force of it’s own, since the beginning of time.

The Goldenberg tree had stood in line with it’s sister trees across the waste of time.

There was no hope for them.

The trees could not compete with men.

Cemeteries grow and life unfolds.

The death toll of man continues by his own hand.

Never wondering in a moment,

century old trees die from empty breath so ruined of motion.

Frail is their way, as the land consumes their hearts away.

Leaving one tree to ponder, named Goldenberg in honor.

T.S.Garp © Copyright 2009 All Rights Reserved.