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Poetry: “The Day They Cut The Tree Down”

January 4, 2012

I’m preparing for my first art exhibition of the year right now, so I don’t have much time for creating new artwork. But I do have some time to post some of my poetry. Yesterday’s one was brand new, this one is from October last year.

The Day They Cut The Tree Down

There was nothing wrong with the tree.

It wasn’t ugly. It wasn’t old.

Maybe it was just in the way.

They didn’t give a reason.

One morning they were just there.

I remember having breakfast coffee and a smoke.

The truck arrived, loaded with ropes and tools.

A large, beat-up chipper in tow.

Before my coffee was cold, branches were falling,

Like lovers’ clothes.

A sweet scent of tree-blood and chainsaw fumes.

I’ll never forget that noise.

Limb after dissected limb slintered through

The relentless jaws of the chipper,

Like shards of broken china after a fight.

Soon, the dark, oblix toppled

Sending shudders through the porch.

Sky and sunshine and clouds appeared

Where once there had been tree.

One morning they were just there

And the tree wasn’t.

Just like you.

(c) 2011, Anthony Donnelly

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