My god, you’re still here
guarding that tree.
Think of all the damage you’ve caused
to cars and trucks,
a decade of cyclists capsized?
A fine mission, but there’s no
escape.
Your lock is rusted shut.
Yes, I’ve stood my ground.
I’ve paid no heed to passing fads,
impervious to new ideas,
unmoved by talk of climate change.
I’ve stood despite my wounds,
loyal to those who see change
as the work of the devil.
I see, but did you know
that the tree you guarded all those
years
has died?
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