The Guardian Fails

The tree stands there, watching over his charges, younger than most of them, yet carrying the wisdom of his ancestors in his veins. The young magnolia tree, gazing down at the broken tombstones at his feet, weeps tears of leaves for the lost ones. Other stones stand stately and proud, proclaiming their place among the weeds. A crow, with blue-black feathers, settles nimbly atop a rusted fence. Focusing one beady eye at the tree, he says, "You were chosen to protect this place. You, with roots that grow deep. The oak was too busy entertaining the living, the cypress was too sickly to count on, the pine's roots would disturb the ground, and the pecan tree was too delicate. But you, the magnolia, would bloom in Spring and Summer, your leaves would provide shelter from the rain, and your limbs would stretch out long and strong. You were chosen from so many others, and yet you have failed." The tree cannot respond, has no words to explain, but sits silently, gaurdedly, weeping tears of leaves for the mistakes he has made.