We have this dead tree
in our yard.
When it died
I took it very hard. 

For that beautiful 
Norwegian Spruce,
I dug the hole.
I planted the roots.

It was a tiny sapling,
less than two feet high.
From a distance 
you couldn't see it with your eye.

For thirty years
strong and high it grew.
Providing shelter and
shade anew.

Then came along
that ugly gypsy moth.
Their tiny mouths
chewing all the needles off.

Unlike the mighty oak,
this tree could not keep its health.
Instead, it died
all by itself.

Now it still stands
still tall and proud. 
It's branches thinning 
and dropping 
to the ground. 

Little birds
still on it perch.
Lots of bugs and insects
love its berth.

We'll leave it standing 
until it falls down.
Providing nourishment 
for everything around.