Early in its life, this grand old tree
decided to grow in opposite directions at once.

Not exactly conducive to longevity
my beautiful, leafy friend.

I know.

You have seen many of us,
also our marriages, our families
trying to do the same, impossible thing.

Inevitably, the weight of years, the pull of gravity
splits us down the middle, leaving us with a fatal wound,
like this one of yours, old friend.

Recent, rogue storms,
torquing you with gale force winds,
have opened fresh, damaging splits.

Even your own generous embrace of the sky
has left you open to disease where you are weakest,
as are we, dear friend, who have stood in your shade
imagining you destined for a venerable old age.

It is not to be, not this time.

Already, limbs are being cut down to lessen the risk
to the neighbor's roof, and to the skulls of passing pedestrians.

Enough of you will be left,
as the chilly nights come on,
for you to blaze out
in generous, leafy glory,
one last time.