The Old Tree

I heard an ugly sawing sound

As an old oak came down.

It was the tree or the wall

That had to fall

So the old oak had to go.

 

Looking out my window

I see another ancient tree

Looking back at me.

It’s greenery gave me shade

During the recent heatwave.

 

This tree was here long before I came

And may well remain

When I am one with wind and rain.

 

 

But all things fall

In the end, however much we pretend it is not so.

This tree will go

And another grow. Well, I hope tis so.