Danielle White Poet Epitaph

Death and Chainsaws

The chainsaws are roaring
this Friday morning
dissecting the tree
that meant so much to me.

I counted the rings,
amidst broken things,
over four hundred years,
I count through my tears.

I try to let go,
not let my pain show,
I struggle to sleep
as the great Oak weeps.

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Monique Davis February 8, 2009 at 3:01 PM This is so pretty and sad. It's amazing how we connect to things that others find worthless. This is a beautiful write. - Monique

Barbara Gorelick January 30, 2009 at 7:27 PM Wonderful write..the oaks here in California are almost sacred. You cut one down at your peril.. and not without a permit. I love this tribute to the tree and what it has seen through the ages. BG

Vince Suzadail Jr. January 30, 2009 at 1:00 PM That tree has seen a lot of changes. Amazing when you think of the times it lived through. Pre-America, the frontier days, etc. Sad to see it end. Vince

James Faulkner January 30, 2009 at 10:03 AM beautifully writting. -love and peace james

Michael Degenhardt January 30, 2009 at 8:21 AM Sad sometimes, isn't it when the trees have to come down. They do and can live such long lives. The imagery here is so clear and the words flow easily. An enjoyable read. Michael

Amy Swanson January 30, 2009 at 7:42 AM Very beautiful and poignant, lovely writing. Blessings, Amy :)