What the old trees do not realize

The trouble with these old, gnarled trees still standing upright in the earth and in the air is that they want to remain homes to the many homeless evening-birds.

The birds incessantly chatter with slum kids in shanties with tin roofs glistening in the sun ,through old cycle tires and tarpaulin tatters ,kept defensively in place against wind by a motley collection of stones.

The old trees do not realize , in their death, that the gardener’s three-stone stove Is waiting impatiently for their dry logs to arrive in its enormous, crackling fire.