My name is Podriger Tumor and poetry and conflict have always had a lot in common for me.

I grew up with a lot of conflict and lived in a lot of conflict and worked a lot of conflict.

And poetry has always taught me how to choose words carefully, how to choose words simply,

and to imagine that words have power to create or destroy.

One tree by Philip Metrus

They wanted to tear down the tulip tree our neighbours last year.

It throws a shadow over their vegetable patch, the only tree in our backyard.

We said no. Now they've hired someone to chainsaw an arm, the crocs on our side of the fence,

and my wife in tossled hair and morning sweat marches to stop the carnage mid limb.

It reminds her of her childhood home a shady place to hide. She resides her litany of no returns.

Minutes later, the neighbours emerge, the worker points to our unblinded window, I want to say,

it's not me, slide out of view behind a wall of covered, ominous breakfast table,

steam of tea, our two young daughters now alone. I want no trouble.

Most I fight for my wife's desire for yellow blooms when my neighbours' tomatoes will stunt

and blight in shade. Always the same story. Two people want tree, not enough land or light or love.

Like the baby brought to Solomon, someone must give dear neighbour, it's not me,

bloom shadowed, light deprived, they lowered the chainsaw again.

I love this point because it feels like two parts of my world have come together.

I think the interest in my whole life has always been religion, conflict and poetry,

and where preferably I like poetry about conflict and religion.

And this poem is so brilliant in terms of how it describes the escalation of conflict.

All my training initially in conflict mediation was about mediating neighbour to neighbour conflicts,

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