It’s a life so different to the dense forest trees the recreational park trees the country trees the mountain side trees. (nature)
The life of the neighborhood urban trees.

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The heights checked. (checked) The outstretched arms curtailed. (stopped) Electrical and telephonic lines marking out boundaries that one cannot pass.

 

The gnarled trunks harboring the nasty scars of numerous amputations. Chainsaw cosmetic (plastic) surgery.

 

The life of an Urban Tree.

 

The winter months exposing the bare boney bends of the sinewy branches once covered in the leafy green of spring.

 

Spindly fingers dance in the breeze clacking like snapping (poem jazz approval) to an off- cadence rhythm. The silhouette of Halloween. (ooo hahaha)

 

Outside looking dead. Inside dormant, waiting, anticipating warming heat to spring the buds of cover. (life)

 

Shallow roots push desperately against the constricting boundaries of city planning and buckling the stale gray concrete walkways. (crack)

 

The rough crust accentuating the extended and distorted ‘O’s of the time stretched cleaving of its boughs.

 

Some might say disparagingly, (ugly). But that is wrong. (oh)

 

Great character, an off-kilter beauty of the natural amongst the up shoots of human architecture.

 

And even though displaced in terms of natural home adds character to cookie cutter sameness.

 

Makes me smile. (warms me from the chill). And although a hard existence. a comfort and a need of the dwellers. (the life of)

 

Urban Trees.

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