Tree

just a poem.

sing the song
of the lonesome tree
feel its curves
listen to it weep
mother touches babe
and for the first time
nurture is evident
but blinded by
the cruelty
and disgust
of chainsaws
and woodcutters-
as they screech with pain
we can not save them all
their branches are weak
and their trunks hopeless
to the sharp technology
that will rip through their roots
and tear them to the ground-
bound by a murderous grasp
humans are the greatest evil
and nature is defensless
to their wicked intentions.