A long uphill slope
The sky in turmoil
Darken clouds rolling on
A touch of color
From the evening sun
The north wind blowing
Over the parched land
A wee tree swaying
Before the surging wind
Standing desolate and forlorn
A clump of grass
Knee high in height
Parched and dry
Moving to and fro
Before the billowing wind
A golden evening hue
From a beam of sunlight
Intensifies the glowing grass
The sky continues to darken
The clouds streaming on
As the sun lowers
Stunning photo and love your poem too.
I love this wee tree– living.
Thank you