I stopped once to hear a sitar
played in a leafy shade.
A carpet had been laid to soften
spreading roots, and when the musician
paused, he rested his instrument
against a sturdy trunk.
Felled for a utility pole, says the young gardener
with outraged face. Couldn’t they
have found another place?
Now, where just a week before
we gathered in uncommon grace,
a stump and side-lying trunk.
Growth rings slowly weep sap.
Severed branches collect in a heap.
Something there is that doesn’t love a tree,
that sees only expendability; sees logs,
split and stacked for firewood;
sees timber, 2 X 4’s, cash.
That looks at shade and wants full sun;
that wants to make way for a lawn,
a fairway, a putting green.
©July 29, 2020
#68 of my 100 Poem Pandemic Challenge
Revised 1/12/21 with Susanna Rich
5 thoughts on “Something There is That Doesn’t Love a Tree”
Made me want to go out and plant one.
nice, M. very nice…
Ronald Browne 60 North Market St – #107 Asheville, NC. 28801
Thanks Marica for these lovely thoughts about “trees and impact of rushed civilization”. Ghassan
You’ve captured the beauty, the horror and the sadness, Marika. Story of the earth under human stewardship.
Life without trees, sand, oceans, lakes, friends and love would be challenging! ___________________