Euthanasia Poem by Betim Muco
Euthanasia
I took down the old oak tree
In my backyard
No more complaints
About fallen leaves and branches
But sometimes when I sit on the stump
Smoking my pipe
I miss the tree
It had become like an ancient grandfather
Who allowed me to perform euthanasia.
Monday, December 16, 2013
Topic(s) of this poem: branches,grandfather,smoking,tree
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8/28/2026 8:56:30 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
