Tree Poem

The tree is still 

Red all over like a toddler about to blow up 

Leaves are black and white like ash after a fire 

Vroom vroom the chainsaw roars

The tree was sweaty and nervous

The sun is hotter and the chainsaw is coming closer like a cheetah 

chasing its prey.

Vroom it cuts right through the middle

Toppled over like a rock

The tree is still

Life is too short not to change our ways