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