In Mourning For A Tree

Issue 11

I heard the ungodly racket
of the chain saws, those
cruel barbaric weapons
‘gainst somnolent nature,
and I thought, Could it be
that tree? The old oak
which had stood like a
seventy foot high king
for God knows how long
in my neighbors’ yard.
 
I could see for some time
it was dying, with a paucity
of leaves the last few years
but trees can take a long time
to die—and so I told myself,
he’ll make it another year….
 
And perhaps he would have
but my neighbors must have
tired of the near leafless tree
and so called in the butchers.
 
But when I left my house and
walked past their yard now
sawdust strewn, and saw the
empty sky where the oak had
once held court... I mourned.
 
 

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NOLO SEGUNDO, became a published poet in his 8th decade in over 210 literary journals in 17 countries. A retired teacher, he has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and thrice for the Best of the Net. His reflect the awareness he gained when he had an NDE whilst nearly drowning in a Vermont river: that he has, or rather is a consciousness predating birth and surviving death, what poets since Plato have called the soul.

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