Where Shade Once Was

Where shade once was, the oak tree in a sprawl
Of death no longer writhing against the wind
The people say: «I see now. It was tall.»
And here and there slight nests of spring now find
Themselves dependent on a severed height
The people say: «I see now. It was kind.»
The people praise. The people cut
Twilight comes and they haul their loads off
Through mid-air a cry…
A blackcap crying out in flight
Seeking a nest that is no longer there