The trees used to be tall
And
The trees used to be green
And gray
With brown
And yellow
Or red, orange, purple …
The trees used to be the retirement home
And the first-time home-buyer neighborhood
And the mid-life mansion
And the childhood neighborhood
To that wiry, old squirrel
To that woodpecker with the red hat
To the raccoons
The bees
In summer, Mrs. Sparrow and her kids
The popes and cardinals
And even that Johnson girl
(One spring her daddy built the tree house – she didn't come down for weeks, it seemed)
The trees used to be
Alive
To be
The trees used to be.
But then you came
Now the trees aren't tall –
They're long
And black
And they aren't green where they should be
Their hair is gone
Dead
And the squirrels left
So did the birds
And the bees, raccoons, life
Dead.
Why did you come?