Cataclysm...

The tree falls dead in the sometime around noon... perishing thoughts...of a deluge...

Ahh..the crawling time...which is fleeting now, feels eaten away... Numb leaves peek at the ground... overshadowed by the sky...
Roots imbibed soft bristles..sways... of a genial amour.. The chime of carillon, It felt, when the leaves spoke to each other...blushing in their whispers...

Relevance fades...disappears;

All that remains is the gusty wind...which turns back a leaflet or two...bringing to life a vignette....in it's indelible embrace...
And...
..the boughs surrender...to the caustic grains of scattered sand...stooping...never to rise again...

Curled..

Invisible..