Uprooted

I used to rock my baby ‘Neath an overhanging tree Which grew right by the river, Just a block or two from me. Its leafy boughs provided shade To my most favorite bench, A haven in the city Where a new mom could entrench. In recent years, those branches Formed a bower where I’d rest, To read or write a poem or two, With breezes that caressed. For more than thirty years, that tree Has stood there like a friend. I never ever thought I’d see Its life abruptly end. This morning, though, I passed that spot And noticed too much sky. The tree is gone, a fact my brain Was dying to deny. It isn’t worth it to protest; The awful deed is done. No more will strollers have a place Of shelter from the sun. But so much more than summer shade This neighborhood has lost. When roots are wrested from the ground, To me, a line’s been crossed.