The last tree

Written by: jim joyce

A pretty oak  sits outside my window pane in the snow and in the rain 
Covered with life, outside the balcony fifty steps away 
Decorating the tree with  flashes of red, black, grey,  yellow and white, 
are his friends the cardinals , squirrels , chickadees and the tufted titmice
 They sing , chirp, and  chatter in harmony of song 
As the seasons pass, we live  thru heat, drought , cold and  rain all year long
 I keep my feeder close at hand and watch as they load up in waves of two and three 
 to make their run at the seeds and grain 
The leaves are green now and vibrant with life, in the fall the acorns grow and my tree stands tall 
At winter they covet  the warmth and provide a shelter for the thick furred grey squirrels
 A lovely little hole in the crook of the branch big enough for two to snuggle and borough 
They race down these pathways in the sky, playful as skilled acrobats
October mornings  the leaves are falling , making noisy whispering sounds
the first rays of  sun turn frost into a million twinkling stars on the ground 
 The two winged take refuge in their nest , built carefully for warmth and rest 
To nurse  and raise their young , making them fit for another generation of  the best
The seasons flow as a quiet pond and like our beautiful  life 
 everything is real with very  little strife
 Among the colorful citizens of  this merry place I give life in equal exchange
for joy and a chance To sit and watch my friends as I grow old and enjoy life in the sun 
But life  changes,  very unfair , and I am denied my playground in the sky
one day some men came and cut all the beauty down 
Now its gone all butchered and bare nothing left but a big hole in the ground