Witnessing extinction

Palpitating palm fans spread their large split hands in a pounding pulse,
It’s a choked canopy struggling to let moist rays of hope fall in a light waltz,
They’re shading deficient floor flora from the phosphorescence for which it begs,
Aloft monotones of protuberant stones that mould contours in the waters dregs,

Nearby, silence is being repulsed by a haunting cry of a songbirds sorrow,
And so the rapids escape these screams like silk over a cascading nirvana furrow,
In water swirls the untamed ripples eddy around suicided leaves,
While vines coyly tempt this stream with nooses wound in loose knit weaves,

There is a strangler fig in an embrace of germination from above,
And a tree dieing within, from the vines melodramatic love,
And an ancient fern attached to a mouldy rock also in a lust conjunction,
While in front of me on a flaking log sat a green frog, waiting for extinction.

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