Poem: They Killed My Mulberry Tree

They killed my mulberry tree today—
No warning, just the saw’s sharp bite,
Its branches torn and tossed away,
Roots choking in the blinding light.

I watched them laugh, those hired hands,
Who never knew the shade it gave,
How summer stained my lips like brands
With berries sweet as silence saved.

It bloomed despite the concrete lot,
A stubborn heart in soil thin—
It taught me life could find its spot
And start again, and start again.

I climbed it once when I was small,
Carved clumsy letters in its skin;
It never minded, took them all,
Held secrets like a trusted kin.

Now sky pours through the open space
Where green once whispered low and long—
An absence nothing can replace,
No roots, no birds, no quiet song.

They say it’s just a tree—no soul.
But some things breathe without a face.
And in its bark, it kept me whole.
They killed it—left an empty place.

Thank-you for reading.

Much Love and Light,

Brenda Marie Fluharty