the sakura tree
in the dusty ol’ dark corner of the failing shop,
(although the owner would beg to disagree)
priced at $7.95
with a cardboard sign fastened with white cable ties
reading “UNLIKELY TO STAY ALIVE”

it appears that it was trying to expand,
to spread its branches,
but expansions weren’t in demand
evident by the fung- decom- moldy? plastic watering can
because it somehow managed to postpone its eventual demise,
which I guess was part of its master plan.

I guess I was feeling mercy
because Mr. Tree ended up somehow escaping that dreaded shop.
who knows whether I just acted impulsively,
or I was feeling a little nature-y

I hung him from ropes on both of his sides,
with a window shining April light,
and birds that chirped, (along with some cries)
in the place where he resides.

I guess the lack of moldy supplies had an effect
because Mr. Tree ended up vacating his ropy hangout.
I tried to refer him to the backyard,
but it seemed he put his roots in the kitchen tiles.
which I guess hurt me more than him,
because my house with a tree,
is now more like a tree with parts of a house.

I can’t say I hate it though
his flowers often spread throughout,
adding a little bit of life-o to what's left of my house-o.
and his mischievous pranks,
that makes me wonder if tree puberty really does exist.

however sometimes I come home from a long day,
to the tree-like remains of my house,
and I can almost feel like Mr. Tree regrets it.
regrets existing or regrets the growth he had,
maybe it's just tree angst but,
I hope someday he realizes that
him putting his root down was perhaps,
one of the best things to happen to me.