07/08/21

 All trees must die. Some turn into ashes in a blaze. Some cave into their rotten inside. Some are pulled out from their roots. The first day is horrendous. Birds chirp nervously and fly to and fro. Squirrels screech indignantly and hop into the emptiness. Children look up anxiously running up and down. Where did it go? I’d rather your stomp remained. I’d rather your roots remained, I’d rather your bark remained. Keeping me anchored on this earth. Lonely sentinel, tell me… Where are your forefathers? Where are your mothers? Where are your brothers? You are surrounded by Bricks Concrete Tired tired old houses. But where are your people ? I know a pine tree just like you, across that field. I know an oak tree just like you on the other end of that road. I know a beech just like you behind that house. They remember too……