spring is still just a word
though the temperatures soar
into the seventies and eighties
winter is the official season
but you can’t reason with a tree
and i hope the bees are not loafing around
Poem 20150226
Tag: tree
Poem 20150106
after the fog lifted
we could see the damage
the car had done to the tree
struck a glancing blow
the tree lay on its side
uprooted
and fully intact
as if to protest its own doom
but the next day
city workmen
with chainsaws and wood chippers
reduced it to a noisy memory
the smell of resin
and a hole in the ground
Words and Feathers 