The tree man toured my property,
Which was at my request.
I wanted some dead branches gone
And figured he knew best.
He put some ribbons ‘round the trunks
Of trees he thought should go,
One big one next to my back door;
I’ll likely tell him “no.”
That tree’s been here before my house;
It’s sturdy, tall and strong
And where it started growing first
Is where it does belong.
Yes, twigs and leaves fall on the roof,
But I don’t have the heart
To have it ripped out from the ground
Where life, for it, did start.
My husband disagrees; he says
To trust the tree man’s eye,
But someone else can hire him
To do it, when I die.
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