poem

InfestedBackyard lined with dying trees, The lifeblood sucked out, devouredBy the bronze birch borer disease.The leaves don ’t comeAnymore and the shade they castIs no longer the deep blue cooling canopy;Stick-like slashes of blackHatchings across the grass.The storms come, strong windsSnap the distressed branches.I am left to fetch fallen Fragments, pieces, alone, the next day.Piles and piles of rotted brokennessStacked to dry out in future suns;Kindling for an indeterminate blaze.Now is the time to thicken your bark,Reinforce the shields that have thinned.You can ’t afford to look away or yield;Even the smallest things can get under your skin.4/10/20

Source: Buckeye Surgeon - April 10, 2020 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs