Sisyphean Attempts at Self-Improvement

A Squandering of Bark and Skin

A withered tree stands alone atop a withered hill,
its days of vivacious verdancy long since gone.
This withered hill stands in a withered kingdom,
its days of profane prosperity far behind.

Desiccated roots thread through arid earth
as barren branches claw at sterile sky.
Emaciated citizens wind through bread lines,
cadaverous arms clutching empty plates.

The withered tree is long past dead,
a giving tree that gave everything.
Withered people are close on its heels,
subjects sentenced to a similar fate.


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12 lines

FORM: Free Verse

PROMPTS: A withered tree + thread, bitter (you only need to choose one word to use)

Written for "Cards Against Authors"