last year just before summer turned springtime all gold-washed and dreamy
our neighbour came to us and asked if
he could cut down the tree in between our houses and look,
mother said yes and
father said yes and
i said nothing about the
robins
i saw nesting there. look,
to the neighbour the tree was a nuisance,
scratching thin lines into his windows
and waking the dogs at night
but look,
i saw life there and now that life is gone.
look, no one mourns what they do not see.
no one mourns the stump.
