Reading Time: 3 minutes Saturday Poem
Requiem for a Tree

 
It was as if it had never been there.
The ground was leveled,
so that no wound could be seen;
no gaping hole where it had once stood.
All the branches were surgically removed;
no stub left standing to give away the crime.
They thought that the job was finished.
The tree was no more.
But the Earth has memory.
They thought that once removed,
the tree was gone forever.
But the ferns that had grown under its shade
wilted and died of sorrow.
And the delicate flowers that had answered
the invitation of its shade
were now burnt by the merciless sun.
And the water that was kept on its leaves
now fell relentless, making puddles
and flooding other flower beds.
And soon the garden was no more.
 
They thought that once removed,
the tree was gone forever.
But creatures have memory.
The squirrels that played on its branches
grew restless and jumped into windows,
scared the neighbors
and were put to death.
The crows that did their covens
under its green temple
sought other places of reunion
and no longer cleaned the place of carrion,
so the stench grew.
The birds that flocked to the tree
to make my morning a glory
flipped their wings and circled in […]