The Tree & Me
The Tree & Me

The Tree & Me

The Tree.

Stripped of all branches.

It stands.

Exposed.

Alone.

Waiting for the final cut.

And Me.

Rug pulled.

I quaver.

Overwhelmed.

Sad.

Waiting for the final call.

Change hurts.

For the Tree & Me.

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3 Comments

  1. Debra

    Love, love, love your poem even though the tree looks sad and you are too. I had to chop down two shrubs that I planted (in the wrong place, oh well) in front of our door. They were about the size of a beach ball when I proudly planted them. They were supposed to grow slowly and not be big; however, they took over the entrance to our house and each got to be huge, about the size of an outhouse. I had to keep hacking away at them just to comfortably enter our house. Finally, I had to have someone take the chainsaw to them. Very sad!:((

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