The Dying Tree

I mourned the now dead apricot,
It’s death seemed so unfair
Until a tufted tit mouse
Built her nest in there.

This year there are no blossoms;
Just string and grass and such,
And tiny little bird eggs
So fragile to the touch.

How lucky buzzing chainsaws
Never reached the rotting girth,
This hollow stump of dying trunk
Gives such a wonderous birth!

There is no fruit upon the ground
But life takes to the air!
In bark decaying and dying,
There’s new life everywhere.