In the shades of an old almond tree

The almond tree has been butchered
there are stems where your feet played,
there is a plastic box and red tape where you found a scorpion
and crucified him for the poison, threat to your grown body
they have cut down your tree house, your first laugh with the boy
who was just 'blond' enough for you. You are at bay now but you cannot help
but ask for the leaves of the green blossoms, announcing the season of
hide and seek, of monsters and men in long legless outfits
these were your fears, they have butchered your almond tree
here is a piece of what  you have done, you still have the stem
like the memories, full of circles, each for a different year
they used to tell you, that's why things are layered
the trees, the brain, the compilation of woe
in the shade that is no longer given by almonds.