walk together through living forest
beautiful in pre-dawn
then into the cleared land
the giant machine terrible leggo-like
cutting blades huge yet strangely dull
like monstrous lobster claws
our human circle around
the human made Machine
a thin line of flesh and spirit
to contain a monster made of
metal wrenched out of the Earth
seizing ancient sun’s power
for fossil-fueled destruction.
we sing, try to keep joy & warmth
amid piles of tree corpses
in neatly stacked rows
trees we love
words can’t quite capture
blood memory,
voices of the land
why the heart beat knows
we must be there to protect
the Beaver Pond Forest
i stumble over words for media
just words, only words
as i leave, i go to the five-trunked tree
each trunk severed
no more fingers reaching for sky
i draw hearts
on the snow
on the severed trunks.
hearts on the five-trunked tree. photo credit: Chris Bisson, 8 Feb 2011
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