Nothing megalithic about the following I'm afraid - just the death of an old beech tree that should not go unnoticed.
The old beech tree was felled today
from where it had stood
between the land of the living and the land of the dead
for a century or more at least.
The old tree stood on the other side of the wall
between the little terraced houses
on the little Victorian street
at the edge of the town's old cemetery.
There weren't too many
to show it much acknowledgement
except the lady at number 66
who lived with her cats on the living side of the wall.
She'd seen the old tree change
season in and season out
from her garden and her little window
had brushed up the leaves in the fall
had watched the tree's new buds swell and burst.
Now in its absence
nothing more than a heap of logs and a puzzled pile of squirrels
wood pigeons without a place to flap home to
and a lady looking from her window
onto the emptiness where her beech tree once stood.