Oh. Lots of robins this morning. A sky full of robins. Gorging themselves on the fruit of the ash tree. Flocking with the starlings, the voices of both filling the air with song.
My favorite trees are scheduled for removal at any moment. The thought of it rips my soul in two. I get attached to old trees. They stand there waiting for an execution, flaming red against blue sky, wrapped in prayer flags and tokens of love people have left there. "Replacement trees will planted when project is done." One generic life does not "replace" a specific, beloved one. I get too attached to life. Generics can never replace a specific, beloved one.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment