Trees

The trees in my neighborhood are falling.

I don’t see it as a good sign.  First,

there was a giant oak in Rufus’ backyard,

just south, went down in a windstorm.

Then, a few weeks ago, Bob cut down

a 30 foot pine because it was dropping

more needles this year, then limbs.

Soon the rotting pin oak toward the sunset

will fall by wind or axe and we’ll

hopefully dodge it, but what is inescapable

is the collapse of our forest around us.

Already the sky seems too wide,

almost frightening.  This is not Kansas.

And when that next tree goes, and the sky

splits wide open in all directions,

I will be haunted by a sinking feeling,

or the ghosts of all these trees.