New
Order Pruning
The scent - a camphor laurel
was our first thought
my friend standing at the car door
talking
such a rare occurrence
in the street these days
all
inside all erecting screens
and nooks
forever out
startled I saw the tree
the old tree - the verge tree
the one that had held the rope swing
Donna’s rope swing for her kids
before she moved away
tired of having the cops called
by the neighbour in between
a week before
that tree had been a fright
like the minute you see your kid
with a Mohawk
where the choirboy curls once grew
all the limbs lopped
but still a stump
I say I saw a tree
I saw nothing
I saw the ground the ground
before the house
mulched up fresh
with tree
one must suppose
the smell
the smell of eucalypt the
complex life of her
stunned us
Yesterday I took the dog
on my walker I wheeled up there
with coffee bags and with my
hands I scooped up what I needed
in the night we breathed
her
in and out
together
one heavy linking lung
of memory peace and plenty
undead tree
zombie street
be mine
wonderful!
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