Through my windows I see trees
 That stand quiet and tall with dignity
Only the rustle of leaves
When the breeze decides to call.

They tower over the scenes--
People passing by
Children at play
Birds up in the sky--
So many things.

But changing seasons
And the years can be unkind
Even strong, brave trees
Sometime can no longer stand.

What tales we could hear--
Sights we would know
If only they could tell us
What they had seen--
Before they have to go~~~~~