How often we spoke of our adoration|
For the old oak tree that loomed
Over our city park like a mother hen
Shielding her newborn chicks.
How often we said her branches
Stretched from earth to heaven
While we sipped our morning
Coffee at the breakfast nook.
How often we sat beneath her
Outstretched limbs in summer
Eating a picnic lunch while being
Shielded by her cooling shade.
How often were we mesmerized
By her looming height while
Bluebirds made their nests
Within the shadow of her smile.
But NEVER did we utter thanks
For keepers of city growth that saw
Her as a threat to urban progress
As she was being sawn asunder.
For Al's LIVING ON BORROWED TIME challenge
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