Great Pines

The great pines sweep across the sky

As children stare with open eyes

At playground wide and long ago build

Of rain, years and silt

In weeks to follow people would ride

With trucks and saws all in stride

And children watch as the forest draws its final breaths

Of soft air, soon to be gone

Replaced with smog and dust

And little red particles of rust

The sounds they’ll hear

Will never come near the calm and the quiet

Of the song that was sang

And bells that rang in the trees.

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Okay, so yeah, I know this poem is really short. I'm sorry... This was a poem that I wrote for my english class and really liked so I desided to put it up on fictionpress.