The oldest, strongest tree
in the forest falls
during a storm.
The bark slowly peels,
reveals the path
of the pine beetle,
through the dark
rotting layers of wood.

Teeth grind upon each morsel
for what seems
like centuries,
before the enamel chips,
opening a small hole
that runs straight
to the black soured root,
to the truth of this life.

We are not meant to last!