A Proud Tree is Cut Down…by Robert M. Katzman
Robert M. Katzman © October 30, 2020
A proud tree cut down
Leaves, branches all asunder
Trunk chopped and scattered
Like so much plunder
***
The tree softly cries
While its birds fly in search
Their nest blown away
Nowhere for them to perch
***
A squirrel skitters over
Seeking home from the wind
Astonished to learn
Nothing, where something has been
***
Trunk chunks lie on the ground
Immersed in its leaves
The brilliant colors of fall
Witness as it grieves
***
Then in the silence
An old human walks by
Sees more than the loss
Of the pieces where they lie
***
Thinks what can be
More than what has been
Sees beauty dismembered
Can be beauty again
***
Comes back with a truck
Gatherers what he can still lift
Age limiting the harvest
Of his vision, his gift
***
Pieces once whole
Lay in jumbled disarray
The truck rumbles on
Barked passengers in dismay
***
The old human unloads
His new acquisitions
Arranges them just so
In particular positions
***
They now adorn a brick fireplace
Guardians of random wood
Containing their drifting
From wind doing what it could
***
Two cut parts on each side
In anticipation they trembled
But the final result
A tree more or less reassembled
***
So the squirrels skitter by
Birds land and depart
What once a sad loss
Has now become art
***