I peer up into the twisting, turning, tanglement

of the magnificent willow tree,

its branches reach out like long arms

stretching as far as they can.

Birds of all kinds flutter around, chirping and squawking in their refuge,

not recognising the recurring risk they are running into.

Their amazing abode is awaiting annihilation by the axes of

the artisans

replaced by a revolting rubbish dump.

A problem to persist or a warning to be headed.