Friday, June 26, 2015


               Dismantling an oak that’s been your friend
               And home to families of squirrels and birds
               In your backyard is hard to apprehend
               And will not be relieved by soothing words.
               The best I hope to do in writing this
               Is to commemorate the fond rapport
               We’ve long enjoyed and now shall always miss,
               As will its former tenants even more.
               Its massive branches shorn and broad trunk sliced,
               It seems the victim of an ancient rite
               Demanding something grand be sacrificed
               To spare us from some dark impending blight.
                    It’s true this tree had power to crush our home,
                    But that’s a subject for another poem.