The Tree by John McAuliffe
The tree that fell
Into the road
The other day
's been carted
Pathside overnight
And chopped in eight
The storm did it
But each goldhearted
Lumber cylinder,
Is wormed through
Like an apple
Where an insect's hatched
Thank God she says
My nervous neighbour
That nothing worse
A car crash
Think of how much
What might have been
