The tree of ages
There had been a storm, not a squall, making it difficult
to walk from the supermarket to your car, leaving you
with tussled hair and breathless, no this was
the real thing, the holm oak, crashed to the ground
roots and all blocking the road.
It was an old tree that had lost weight and bark slung around
it was like a poorly fitted mechanic's overall, so it had to happen
it was what ensued after the fall, and it had to move
still alive, they cut it in half and pushed it aside with
a forklift truck, no ceremony here, no kind words, the tree
was blocking the traffic; not a word of regret, you see,
hadn't it been for the storm, the tree was well enough to
stand by the entrance to the lane for 100 years to come.