Tree of Many Days

One steaming day, on a little property in Cessnock,
There was a circle surrounded by dirt,
But not just any ordinary circle, it was a seed.
The seed grew and grew, towering over the buildings and earthlings,
She watched as the owners of her land built a house,

She watched as grandad Pop went to war,
She watched as the black car turned,
She watched as a man pulled out a yellow envelope,
She watched as Grandad Pop never came back,
But the one thing she watched more than anything, a little girl, my grandma.

I watched as my brother climbed her,
And finally when I was old enough,
With enthusiasm and energy,
I climbed her.
She watched as Aunty Maith pulled up in the gravel drive,
She listened to the cries of Aunty Maith and the sound of sirens bellowing in the night,
She watched as a funny vehicle with a Red Cross on it came,
She watched as people in white suits pulled the girl she had watched over away.
The final thing she watched was a funny looking sharp metal thing,
And the last thing she heard was the sound of a chainsaw.