Smell The Blood Poem by Modi ...

Years ago I watched
as the seedling was planted
I watched it become a sapling
I watched it grow to maturity.
Now it is a victim,
the victim of a neighbour.
This morning I heard the chainsaw
I heard the first limb fall
A cloud of fine sawdust
drifts past my kitchen window
Now I hear the shocking clatter
of the wood chipper
I can smell the fumes from the saw
But far worse, through it all
I can smell the beautiful
Lemon scented blood.