Trees Are Soldiers

Trees are soldiers, sentries
of a thousand wars fought in every age.
They do not flinch at the enemy but stand
as the final vanguard unshakable in their conviction.
The woodland holds its breath, a silence
descending in those moments where the end
is never set in stone. A rusty crackle, veteran oaks
storm the front line. Beeches flailing with God’s might.
Dust settles and enemy lines are held back
until tomorrow. A war of attrition, nothing less.

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