HONORABLE MENTION--YOUTH
The Dying Tree
by Sonja Domanus
The branches spread like a hand
The crippled leaves take their last breaths before they blow away,
With the hatred and resentment that fills the air
No one dares to collect the leaves from this tree
This is the dying tree
There’s only one single sound;
a crow perched upon the highest branch
There is no water nor happiness
No one dares to climb this tree
This is the dying tree
For it may crack at any second
This tree is not powerless
Murky clouds swarm the top branches
No one dares to build from this tree
This is the dying tree
The branches sway
while its trunk is firmly mounted on the ground
A blanket of thorn bushes surround the Earth
No one dares to sit under this tree
This is the dying tree
Once a river, is now home to spiders and sharp rocks
all signs of beauty and light are gone
No one dares to water this tree
This is the dying tree