The tree stood swaying in the wind
The branches readied themselves trying not to bend.
One branch stood out among the rest
The wind reaching it the best.
It tried to stand straight
But it was too late.
Dirt flew
Birds fled
As nature braced itself for the coming dread.
With a roar the wind came
Having no shame.
The branch snapped at the base
Flung far from the tree.
Unrelenting, the wind gave chase
Attacking with glee.
Beaten and on the ground, the branch lay.
The wind came forth, to finish its prey.
Unable to move, the branch, had its last day
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