Dc Bursey Poet Free verse

Tree Thoughts

all that is left
are
these blocks of me

hundreds of years
thousands of birds
roads grew as friends got few
 winter storms and
then

I was alone in a field
near a bench in a park with
tangled colored string and a few kites
colors in light

now all that is left
are
these blocks of me

I thought the Druids were back
the first time I was hugged and
given 
a red ribbon

measured I was
 for the saw-man 
I felt my sap run
heard 
over and over 
a loud mill-hum
was
cut into two then many

all that is left
are
these blocks of me

people sanded 
people painted me
put an A here
and a B over there
then a C

all that is left
are
these blocks of me

heard children play
like back in the day
when I stood tall in my park
heard laughter 

I live
I'm a toy
joy
I'm a toy

Is this tree heaven?
^I^

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