I used to rock my baby
‘Neath an overhanging tree
Which grew right by the river,
Just a block or two from me.
Its leafy boughs provided shade
To my most favorite bench,
A haven in the city
Where a new mom could entrench.
In recent years, those branches
Formed a bower where I’d rest,
To read or write a poem or two,
With breezes that caressed.
For more than thirty years, that tree
Has stood there like a friend.
I never ever thought I’d see
Its life abruptly end.
This morning, though, I passed that spot
And noticed too much sky.
The tree is gone, a fact my brain
Was dying to deny.
It isn’t worth it to protest;
The awful deed is done.
No more will strollers have a place
Of shelter from the sun.
But so much more than summer shade
This neighborhood has lost.
When roots are wrested from the ground,
To me, a line’s been crossed.