The trees stand silent witness, their gnarled fingers clutching the sky, straining for radiance fading into a golden dusk. Each twig adrift on the zephyr tells tales of forlorn promises etched upon whispers of silk.
Once, a lover gazed upon poetry captured in carbon branches. How one's heart fluttered—trepidation against inevitable dissolution! Wisps of allure float upon similarly bent boughs; as measured rainfall follows a starlit chart.