Dead leaves fall, blackened by roadside dirt. 

They rot and are forgotten time and time again. 

Twigs are torn from the branches, bullied by the wind and rain. 

An oak falls to its death with a cacophoney of flying dust and fleeing insects. 

But it all seems fair in retrospect. 

As the seeds flee from home and conquer another land. 

There they will grow and resolutely they will stand.