A tree

They say no ones a real poet until they write a poem about a tree, so here goes!

The Witness

Standing tall, ever vigilant, the most ancient of life.
They are witness to all that happens.
They watch family's grow,
They see friends move,
They watch loved ones die.
They see the season's change
All the while they look rather majestic in a rather domestic way.
In the summer they provide shade and shelter
From the hot weather and beating sun.
In the fall they excite the eyes with changing colours
And eventually lose their leaves.
In the winter snow piles on their mighty branches.
And in the spring, it all starts over again.