Je suis desolee. J'espere

Barren and hollow oaks
Gasping for breath
Above decaying soil.
Roots lusting for the lush turf,
Which only a few feet away
From sunken branches.

Frail and twisted
Sunken branches
Show the only signs
Of life;
From their tips
Blossom red flowers.
The only thing living
In a time of death.

Some blossoms-yield
Poisoned fruit,
For that is all that can grow
On asthmatic trees.