The Fallen Tree Poem by Randy McClave

I don't hate you for what you did to me
I don't hate you said the fallen tree,
And as I lie here now on the ground
Remember this, you did not hear me hate you with any sound.

I did not hate you when you put your initials on my bark
When I was growing in the park,
And I didn't care when you climb my limb
So, with your saw you could trim.

I did not care when the birds on me came to rest
Or when on me they made a nest,
Or when the squirrels scampered up and down my side
When they had nuts and that they needed a place to hide.

I did not hate you when you picked my fruit
Even before they fell at my root,
I have known you for such a very long time
And I never did once mind with your occasional climb.

I didn't mind when I was used as a shade
Or when I got decorated for a special occasion or parade,
I do not hate you which is the truest of facts
But, I do hate your shiny axe.

Randy L. McClave