they cleared the problem branches from the trees this week just like they use to clear cut the preserve behind the old house on the hill. the street is now barren from the waist up it appears, lacking in any definition or character, like a cancer patient after a bout of chemo. and just like the preserve behind the house on the hill it all seems too neat, structured and plotted- its as if they gave my street a brazilian wax from the telephone cables on up. maybe them branches needed tending, maybe them cables needed burying, maybe them fall rains and winters punishing breath need to subside so the flowering leaves can make an appearance. maybe this will be the year that we finally get a spring. im hoping. and maybe it wont matter, maybe the best summers and springs are the ones behind us. like the ones spent at the old house on the hill. like the ones spent with you.