they shake their heads in angry disbelief
and struggle, groaning, to maintain their stance
their branches, flailing, lose every last leaf
the wailing wind embraces with its dance
a crack of thunder and a giant falls
its horror captured in electric light
gone are its dreams of decking festive halls
and children pointing fingers in delight
as morning comes they are entombed in ice
the wind subsides at last, the sun is out
the forest sparkles, having paid the price
and sends best wishes to the spring's new sprout
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