My Tree
I rest
I rest on a stump
the trees gone
My tree
I planted it
watered
nurtured,pruned
Watching it grow, sturdy and determined
against life's insults and snubs
My tree
I left alone because it reached the required height, I took care it didn't get Dutch Elm disease or some other blight.
Still this healthy tree has felled surely as if by a lumberjacks hand
I rest on the stump because I am tired
and it is what I know,
It's what I do now.
This mussing, its not a
"Giving Tree" fable,
cautionary tale or lecture about randomness.
It's a spotlight on my illusion of protection
I can't really protect him against much
maybe
a winter flu
or Dutch Elm.
certainly not Schizophrenia
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