The Felling of Trees

Do they ever know the pain?

Do they ever feel those sharp edges

Of cutting tools

Designed for the felling of trees?

So quietly we comply

To give way to them

Who rejoice in destructions.

Those parasites!

Those slayers!

Their short lives are nothing

Compared to the annuals we live through.

We cry for our lost ones

Once so tall and mighty:

Our brothers sequoia,

Our sisters magnolia,

And many other woody family;

So disheartening to know

That they are now reduced

To miserable rotting stumps,

Uprooted and dumped,

Waiting to be set ablaze -

Their ultimate fate.

Brown dust whirl under blazing sun

On a barren land once lush with green:

They have robbed it of everything.

Are they satisfied?

The answer is a no, sadly;

Their greed is never ending.

We wait on the other side

For them to come with their axes;

Our arms rustle in the wind,

Our roots sucking on dried soil,

We smile no more.