The Wind

Endlessly moving, like a waterfall,
Rippling - as the breeze passes through.
For hour after hour the wind blows,
Ruffling the foliage on the trees,
Making the branches sway and creak
Until one has had enough and
CRACK! - it snaps and falls
Noisily to the ground below
To lie broken and forlorn.
Old leaves roll about - driven by that self-same wind,
Whilst high above in the canopy
New buds form and young leaves break
To take the place of the fallen ones...
Like soldiers... standing firm against their enemy,
The wind.