GOODBYE OLD FRIEND

Trees

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,

And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;

Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.

                                                                                                    Joyce Kilmer. 1886–1918

Mr. Kilmer was correct in his assessment of the most common of God’s beautiful creations, and thanks to Mr. John Sullivan from the Kreamer Street School back in 5^th grade so many years ago, I learned to recite those wonderfully descriptive words.

I have always loved tree, and so today sadness comes in the form of saying goodbye to an old friend. This beautifully crafted old oak, sits on my front lawn and I have made a decision to have it cut down, and like a vengeful cheated wife, have the roots grinded down and the tree obliterated from the Earth.

Why? Because it has gotten very big, reaching out over the house and threatening to pulverize my roof and smash into the house altogether! The roots have surfaced and it is pushing up the concrete walkway that passes by my house. My fear is that come another hurricane, and the tree will sit in my upstairs bedrooms. I wish I could save, plant it a little deeper and maybe move it back a foot or more, but that is dreaming.

So an old friend will disappear into the past, no longer shading me from the dog days of the summer’s heat, and like a sentry on duty, not greet me as I walk out of my door, or stand watch as I come home from a long hard day.

Thank you Mr. Kilmer for showing me the beauty of trees and Mr. Sullivan, for teaching me there is more in life than just baseball and sports, you planted the seeds of love and appreciation for trees in my soul.