THE SENTINEL

Standing, centuries-old

observing, stories untold,

of men walking by.

As their moment fades

 by the changing sky.

I will remain for decades more

ignored

until warmth or shelter needed

yet I let them pass unimpeded.

I shade their journeys,

a witness in silence

to their follies,

heroic acts, and

tragic violence.

Yet I remain, watchful, tall.

A tree,

The sentinel of all

passing by.