Traditional greetings vary. Meeting someone famous, like Lucifer, is intimidating. Be yourself. Don't be nervous. Wear lip balm and give the Devil his kiss.
Gnarled and misshapen,
weathered by living.
Lightning scorched and hollowed.
Pierced with initials.
It hangs low, arms in surrender to fierce winds.
Torrential rains have skinned it to the bones.
A textured face is now slick without character.
Midway, an orange tag signals REMOVE BY: a date follows.
A mere two words terminate life.
No reprieve, no appeal, no mercy —
Was there no objection or another solution?
My accusers — the planners say, it’s just an old tree.
“It’s in the way.”
I am old, but I still have a purpose. My gifts are free —
branches for nests, rest for flight weary birds.
Lover’s initials remain.
In my youth, I served as a billboard for lover’s,
never flinching as they carved
hearts with initials into my bark.
Soon their names will disappear with me.
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