Chopping Down Trees

Several years ago, the people who bought the house next door decided to remodel the entire house and yard. In the process, they cut down a couple of trees. With the yard being virtually outside our bedroom window, the noise was deafening at times. Needless to say, we couldn’t sleep late while this was going on. The following poem from How to Build a Better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver describes a typical morning in which I get Bill dressed while the tree cutting is going on.


We hear the workmen next door,

as we get ready for our day.

Lying down, we put on his pants,

one leg, then the other,

roll, pull, roll, pull

till they’re up as far as they’ll go.

Sitting on the side of the bed,

we remove his sweaty t-shirt.

His arm encircles my waist.

We tug, laugh,

swear till it’s over his head.

One arm, then the other,

it’s off.

On goes the sweatshirt,

one sleeve, then the other,

over his head it goes.

All the while,

chain saws whine.

Branches and limbs fall,

bring change, welcome or not.

Abbie Johnson Taylor, Author of We Shall Overcome and How to Build a Better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver

Author: abbiejohnsontaylor

I'm the author of two novels,, two poetry collections, and a memoir. My work has appeared in various journals and anthologies. I'm visually impaired and live in Sheridan, Wyoming, where for six years, I cared for my totally blind late husband who was paralyzed by two strokes. Please visit my website at

4 thoughts on “Chopping Down Trees”

    1. Hi Chris, the trees not only provided shade but privacy. Now that they're gone,I feel compelled to close the shade on the window that faces the neighbors' yard so we don't give them a strip show.


  1. I think it's sad when people plant trees and years later, somebody else cuts them down. Unless they're causing some sort of problem or posing a danger, people should leave trees where they are. In my Deliverance from Jericho memoir, I wrote how I loved a tree in the yard of the residential school I was exiled to. I could get away from the loneliness of that horrid place and dream to my heart's content. My imagination took me far from the dorm and its supervisors to wonderful lands. Then some workmen bulldozed it down to build a sunken garden. I missed the tree and didn't care much for that replacement. After all, it was just for show and no fun for us to play in.


    1. Hi Bruce, did you climb that tree or just sit underneath it? As for the tree being chopped down in my poem, it was leaning toward our house so I was glad to see it go. Thanks for posting.


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