There stood a tent
With the colour so green
on the side of the road
Somewhere in between
Some just passed by
Some stopped to see
For it never stopped anyone
just waited in the shadow of the tree
The wind straining on the fabric
Pickets fixing the tent to the ground
Resisting the urge to fly away
Waiting forever to be found
It stayed on the muddy side
The road had turned black
The fabric frayed under the sun
The ridge developed a slack
It remained rooted to the place
As the traffic passed by
It no longer looked bright
For someone to stop by
The wind was stronger now
the fabric no longer strong
The pickets lost its hold
It was time for the tent move on
It tore away from the fix
It now was free
It flew and covered the sky
Out finally of the shadow of the tree
Flying free with the wind
Another story was about to begin
There is no tear, no slack
It’s a new tent, with the colour so green
My Tales Within 
So deep thought
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For all those who liked and possibly viewed the post.
When I passed the same path. The green tent wasn’t there.
Wonder if it was flying in the sky. The tree, however, still waited, it’s shade intact.
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