The location changes.
We are moved from camp to camp,
again and again,
but one thing stays the same—
how hard we work.
All.
Day.
Long.
It gets so cold
our tears freeze.
We once were trees, but now we are twigs.
Some of us have shriveled up
and gone back to the earth from where we came.
Those of us who remain
are a poor excuse for kindling.