An Infant’s Passing

The pain.
The agony. . .
       Of watching each leaf shrivel and die,
       Falling at times in twos and threes.
The horror. . .
       Of seeing termites and insects
       Rushing to feast on their prey,
       That was once, twice, thrice and more
       The vibrant, thriving Tree
       Of Man’s Civilization.

Mother weeps at the senseless passing
Of the youngest born.
Her older charges stand in awe
Of this self inflicted wound,
Silently forgiving a sibling’s cruelty
In this moment of incomprehensibility.