The old tree

The Old Tree


The olive tree I used to sit under when the sun
got too bothersome, was young when Jesus
walked on the earth, politically radical upsetting
the delicate balance between Jewish traders
and Roman administrators – for which he was
duly crucified- has been moved, only a hole in
the ground; sold to a rich Chinese trader in Peking.
A bit sadder now than last year, but not bitter,
but I do hope the trader will lose all his money,
and in despair hang himself in my olive tree.