Tree in the Subject Line

Big day for other reasons too. The Tree, The Tree, is getting what’s been coming to it, for, like, an age.

Unmanaged and oftimes dangerous, The Tree – which, according to my research, is a Crap Tree – has been our neighbouring nuisance for years: the stuff of emails and photos to local councillors – Tree in the subject line, and then RE: Tree, and on, to RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: – to lemon-sucking parish council members and, eventually, to long-unknown owners of the land and therefore The Tree itself – who, lured forth, declined to go halves on some overdue surgery and urged me behold its natural beauty instead. It has no natural beauty. Poems and billboards better it. It is a young and crap tree.

As I write this room grows with the light that’s been missing for so long; even when it stood, The Tree, in its wintering bones. Branches are falling now between the rain showers – the last in my periphery has gone at that last punctuation. Cut where they fall, they will make for stoves.

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About Stevie Mitchell

I come from a long line of cartoons and beer. I was once peed on by a tiger. Hoping the resultant super-powers are yet to come, cos if these are they, then, grrrr....
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