"They cut them all down."
I read his words
and somehow touch
His aching.
Quiet life of another plateau
Sturdy reminders of the promise-
We can survive here.
if.
I wonder what they felt
touched by greed and
spinning links.
Knowing, I suspect,
The end
Was coming, long before
Michael told me,
or
Doff told him.
Stately white,
Our kind will miss
The dignity.
No one will agree
where is a good place
to replant.
We fail another test.
Part of us all,
I should have
paid my respects,
From across the crooked
Oiled road,
or from across the
dozen
Mountain Ranges,
Before
They fell.
Before the civilization
ratchet
takes another bite,
and locks.
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