In the grove where whispers sang, We felled the boughs that overhung, Branches once a secret shared, Now lie bare, our actions bared. Neighbor's glare, a tempest stirred, Where leafy veils once softly purred, For with the axe, we cut away, Their shelter, shade—now skies of gray. Their windows wide to stars and sun, Privacy lost, the thread undone. Yet in this clearing, seeds must sow, A chance for friendship's roots to grow. Let us mend where silence screams, Share in whispers, build our dreams, Though leaves have fallen, hearts may rise, To bridge the space with sunlit ties.