Thursday, December 31, 2009

Take That Tall Bush Out

This is a true story of the evergreen that was at the corner of our porch when we bought the house in 1981. In 1993, Annie was desperate for changes. Among them, she said she needed light on our porch, and needed our porch to seem more welcoming to visitors. It was a symbolic gesture. I tried to get her to change her mind but she wouldn’t and so I cut this straggly bush down. It was the sort of evergreen you can’t prune. It would not have grown back.

She was exactly right about what it did. It hid and darkened our porch. Through the years I pruned it to keep it in check. In the end I couldn’t get over the fact that a living being was losing its life for no reason other than esthetics. I killed that bush to her order. I cried through the whole thing.

Happy New Year, my friends and readers. Jesus, especially you. I hope you are well.

Take That Tall Bush Out

That evergreen bush
at the corner of our porch,
you said, "Take it out."
It lived long right there
and I trimmed it every
year so carefully,
but you wanted light,
daylight at the door. When I
took the first hard cut

I started to cry.

March 13, 2009 3:11 PM

16 comments:

  1. Thank you, Christopher, for all your words, your courage and your vision through the year just gone, and all good wishes for the new one.

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  2. Happy New Year, Christopher!

    Your poem makes me think of our Box Elder tree the town took down. Lots more light in our house -- but so sad to lose the tree!

    Thank you so much for all your posts and for all your comments. May the New Year bring you joy and peace.

    love from Liz

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  3. You have the body of a grizzly (so say you), the mind of a philosopher, the soul of a poet, and the spirit of God. What a man!

    Happy New Year!

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  4. Karen, you forgot the defects of character of a real alcoholic. An egomaniac with an inferiority complex...

    Oh well, guess you can't be perfect.

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  5. Oh yes. Grizzly refers to size, not hair or color. Maybe to attitude.

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  6. And actually, I'm called a bear by women, don't really think of that picture myself. I am not tough enough. I snuffle around my world rather like a bear, I guess.

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  7. I've never heard you refer to yourself as a bear, but you come across that way to me, Teddy! ;-)

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  8. Oh, and without our defects of character, we'd have no reason to strive. It's the striving that keeps us alive.

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  9. Bears aren't tough unless they have to be. And apparently, they weep when they prune out an old friend. Love and hugs to you Christopher, and happy new year!

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  10. Some trees are just like that....we should know, we used to be one.

    xxx

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  11. this poem is lovely, touching; and your sentiments to all who read you appreciated....
    best wishes in the new year.

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  12. I am deeply touched that my friends say such nice things to me here. There are many more of you out there who never comment. I want you all to know you are welcome here.

    Thank you, Harlequin, for visiting with me.

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The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.


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