Tree-hugger.
Today my eyes teared over
as they bulldozed the tree
in the undeveloped lot next door.
It had to be cut.
A house was being built there and
aside from the trash it dropped,
it blocked the view.
“I’ll tell you what,” Kazem had said,
“I’ll dig it up and plant it in your yard.”
But I didn’t want the mess of it, either.
I wanted the tree next door
where I could see it
without dealing
with the fluff in my pool,
the pods falling off.
That tree was a resting place for birds,
which I said goodbye to
along with the tree.
Then, while I was at it,
I said goodbye to my cat
who had drowned in the pool
a week before.
Goodbye to my husband
who had hoped to see that tree
and the view around it
every day of the rest of his life.
Goodbye to my mother,
who passed onto me
her love of trees.
Goodbye
to all loved creatures
recently gone.
The tree was gone in a minute,
along with dry bushes, weeds.
The backhoe scraped the soil over
Coke cans, agua bottles,
plastic flowerpots and chips wrappers–
the detritus from houses on each side,
as well as evidence of years of workers
who sat in the shade of the lot for lunch.
For a year or two
of privacy lost, calm shattered,
peace surrendered,
peace surrendered,
I’d get new neighbors,
perhaps a friend.
Clouds of dust billowed
over my newly painted wall.
They’d plant new trees,
the builder promised,
as he bulldozed all.
as he bulldozed all.
–Judy D-B
For dVerse Poets Pub, photo by Aaron Burden
To see the prompt, go HERE. The prompt quote was:
—whose hearts are mountains, roots are trees,
it’s they shall cry hello to the spring.
–e.e. cummings
