Dead Trees

Ode to My Dead Trees

A poem by Rodney Dean Roy

I think that I shall never see
A plant more troublesome than a tree
.
It sprouts forth limbs and branches low
That make it hard for me to mow
.
Some say they’re good for making shade
But air conditioning’s got it made
.
When Autumn comes the leaves fall down
Nature’s litter, scattered ’round
.
I rake and bag them, o’re and o’re
But they keep dropping, more and more
.
We planted three one summer season
two just died for no known reason
.
The tree man came to chop them down
I felt no need to wear a frown
.
Into the chipper they did go
Like that poor sap at the end of ‘Fargo’
.
I think that I shall never see
A plant more troublesome than a tree
.
But now they’re gone and I’m less grumpy
With my new yard pals, stump and stumpy

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4 responses to “Dead Trees

  1. One of the most beautiful poems I have ever read, and so heartfelt.

  2. If there was a like button on your blog, I would click it šŸ™‚

  3. It’s got a nice rhythm.

  4. He’s not really talking about trees. It’s a metaphor for old comic books.
    Genius.

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