This Choice~

It has to come down,
the hired experts tell us,
as we all stand staring up
at patches of blue sky
through the shrinking
canopy of the oldest
red oak tree in our yard.
Still green, though reeling
from the harshest drought
in years, its outer branches
are shriveling into brittle
kindling that litters
the thinning August grass.
The men all look to me.
I don’t want this
decision today.

Back inside,
the news is all talk
about another election
that is likely to decide
the future of the world.
My son predicts it is the end
of this generation’s grip
on who is in charge,
the last time his friends
will have to choose
between an old guy
and a grandmother.
At sixty, I pale, diminished.
It’s OK, he assures me
as we gaze out at the tree,
life will go on. You’ll see.

News Links (find out more):  NPR, CNN, NY Times, Huffington Post

Audio Link (hear Anne read the poem): SoundCloud

Share your thoughts by commenting below!