Almost gone forever

Golden Leaves fall in the breeze from a ruthless rupturing storm, the oldest trees are holding still with vigour, strength and brawn.

 Forests here remember an age they spoke with a thunderous call, to those now gone before mans birth at the beginning of Earths first Dawn. 

 winter approaches cruel and fast, a grand old oak stands tall, wondering when the year will end, he shakes with cold and yawns