Broken Chair

Oak wood standing tall against gusting winds that try to force it down

Breathing in the oxygen, letting it run through the veins of the bark

Chop, chop, chop, the blade crushes into the hard flesh

Cry, cry, cry, the surrounding trees weep for their brother or sister

Thud, it collapses and takes its last breath

The trees lifetime was long, the rings show 71 or 72

Hauled away to its sharp grave, still breathing out

 

The saw spins, controlled and murmuring, waiting to tastes its meal

The saw has taken its prey and torn it in half

The tree, somehow still breathing, looks down at its destroyed frame

 

The man looks at the half that has been chopped into assembly pieces

Fine pieces of oak, smooth from the sand and painted with love

He assemblies the trees half into a new body that aids others

The man looks happy with his tree’s new body and the tree seems calm

 

In a new body, in an unfamiliar place, the tree settles into its surroundings

One after another, person from person, home to home the tree is transferred

Experiencing joy and anger

 

The tree grows old and rickety, it gives in to the abyss of the darkness

Somewhere a child cries asking ‘Who broke my favorite chair?’

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