A tree stood here
Old and failing
A danger to itself and others
Felled it as an act of giving

A gift of safety to passers bye
A gift of wood to the winter fire
A gift to me of exercise
A gift to the tree for it was tired

The stump was ground
It's roots now free
To birth new saplings
And rise anew

They'll form fresh glens
In all good time
As all trees are want to do
When their parent dies

The ground now cleared
The soil fresh turned
The seeds now tossed
For next year's grass

And so it follows
As days pass bye
That life is a constant
And death but a change