City Tree - May 22 2023

 

City Tree

May 22 2023

The city tree

seems unnatural

in its dry patch of soil.

Hemmed in

by thick concrete slabs

between the sidewalk and the street,

its delicate leaves

struggling to breathe

in the blue miasma of diesel fumes

and noxious car exhaust.

While the hungry roots

are stunted

in the hard compacted earth.

Bikes are chained

branches broken off.

Lost Dog flyers

are tacked to its bark,

while random passers-by

pluck a few handy leaves

for no reason than because.

But it's a survivor

and I’m grateful for it.

For the welcome shade.

The oxygen it emits

and water exhaled.

The cool green canopy

that offers such relief

from the sombre greys

of busy city life.

The paved streets

and haggard people.

The looming towers

wrapped in dark reflective glass.

The plastic and paper

and fast food containers

that litter the place

like man-made tumbleweeds.

A shopping bag

is snagged on a branch

just out of reach.

I'm not sure which seems more incongruous,

the orphaned bag

or unloved tree.

It flutters in the breeze

as if trying to break free.

While the tree is still,

anchored

just where we planted it.

We, its human custodians;

like neglectful dads, or absent ones

who long ago

lost touch.