i was little
only three
hiding behind
the cedar tree
she was trying
to beat me
a little child
of only three

that tree is gone
we cut it down
bugs ate it
from root to crown
playing under it
in a princess gown
the memories
can now be found

and every single
time it rains
mushrooms sprout
from its old veins
i wonder if she
still feels pain?
i wonder if
we feel the same?