The Fallen Tree

I don't hate you for what you did to me I don't hate you said the fallen tree, And as I lie here now on the ground Remember this, you did not hear me hate you with any sound. I did not hate you when you put your initials on my bark When I was growing in the park, And I didn't care when you climb my limb So, with your saw you could trim. I did not care when the birds on me came to rest Or when on me they made a nest, Or when the squirrels scampered up and down my side When they had nuts and that they needed a place to hide. I did not hate you when you picked my fruit Even before they fell at my root, I have known you for such a very long time And I never did once mind with your occasional climb. I didn't mind when I was used as a shade Or when I got decorated for a special occasion or parade, I do not hate you which is the truest of facts But, I do hate your shiny axe. Randy L. McClave