#439

             The Crash

When at last the mighty fall,

They fall like redwoods,

Leaves and all.

They scrape the sky,

But leave no traces,

Only wide and empty spaces;

They hit the ground

With mighty cracks,

Loud apocalyptic thwacks.

Nature then sees to the rest,

Disappearing them with zest.

That is how the mighty fall,

Angels, men, and redwoods tall.