one wanted to be planted in central park. it wanted to feel important and see important people walk under its shade. maybe even obama. that tree is a democrat.
one hoped to be planted in a backyard as a monument to the year a family had their first baby. a boy. they’d name him robbie and he and the tree would grow up in tandem. a tire swing would be hung and they’d enjoy long summers together.
one pined (pun intended) of a life in alaska. it would provide shelter to very small, very cute animals. the tree wasn’t sure what kind of small, cute animals lived in alaska, but it knew it would make a fine home for them someday.
and one tree dreamed of being the first tree to perform open heart surgery on a child under one year of age. it wanted to work in a world class hospital and save lives. baby lives – so it would get a lot of bang for its baby-savin’ buck. hey, a tree can dream…
but no matter what they thought they’d grow to become, or where they thought they would take root, these trees ended up and in downtown los angeles. and then were mutilated.
they were mutilated a lot.
downtown livin’ ain’t easy.
or so they tell me.
