a tree as messy as our old tree.
She had beauty, our old Mesquite,
but could never, never be neat.
Grow and grow like a weed in spring,
much money was needed to trim her and clean.
So today, with sadness and the roar of chain saws,
Arbor Care dissected her, and carried off the logs.
No more shade for our summers of heat,
but no more debri to cling to our feet.
We will miss you, you huge scraggly thing,
the birds you held and the place you shaded,
but the poop they left and the sap we hated.
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