Today is the tipping point.
A lumberjack's hammer drives a wedge deep into our dead faded tree,
its blossoms long since fallen,
its branches bare.
Its roots split with each crack as we take turns with the strike of an axe.
Pushing through the bark and sap makes for tiring work.
(and such work is best done with friends.)
No, this tree will never more turn a new leaf,
nor will it bear children of its own.
Its sickness in its final days and resilience through lost limbs, poisons, and infestations:
remarkable, but it was neglect that ultimately made its final end.
It is now the time, when the proud tree is felled, the space cleared for new life.
We'll sever the roots from all that remains, and leave a stump to rot.
Drive the final hammer strike home; soon again the forest will be at peace.

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