This is a picture of a maple tree in all its glory,
Fall in Huntsville, Arkansas.
We live in a Mobile Home Park. This past week
the management of the park had two beautiful,
old pepper trees cut down. One stood by the side
of the road and our mail lady parked her mail
truck under it and ate her lunch and occasionally,
the maintenance workers would take their break in its
shade.
I was so disappointed in the loss of that tree, I felt some,
sympathy for those protesters that chain themselves to
forrest trees. So my way of protest is the following poem.
THE DEATH OF A TREE
It stood so very proud,
And took a hundred years to grow.
It was beautiful to see,
But was felled in one swift blow.
It spread its branches out,
As if to reach the sky,
Some birds have lost their home,
I'm sure they wonder why?
It stood beside the road,
Its shade was there to share,
With those who came to lunch,
Or just rest a minute there.
Now, the land is bear,
The sun beats upon the ground.
No bird-song can you hear,
It's silent all around.
They say it's only God,
That can make a tree... you see,
But it's by the hand of man...
The death of a tree!
Freda Fullerton
May 28, 2011
No comments:
Post a Comment