There was a day
when that tree
stood heavy with blossoms.
No one looked up.
There came another day
when it entered the season of falling leaves.
Its branches dried,
its shade grew thin,
and no one cared.
Only the birds
that had once rested there
carried away a little grief.
One unfinished evening,
they arrived to cut it down,
treating what remained
as just another useless government task.
Even then,
no one heard its cry.
On a earth
where hearts have long since died,
what purpose is left
for trees?
