Harwood
I saw her once again, prepared to wave hand.
But couldn't…instead shed tears…
Her sign of drywall read: “Hardwood”.
Thoughts flew to jungle
Came thunder strike Alberta on fire
People run as do bees and the ants
When abused by the man
With water or smoke.
Flapped wings and soared high
I climbed high and high to sky
Said cloud: “They asked for.”
Gave flap lowered wheels and lined up
Saw the farms treeless
In final, I landed on runway.
Encountered a tree broad-leaved a baby
A dicot angiosperm was laughing.
“In fire and laughter? ” I questioned.
“Better soon than later, ” it answered.
Feeling dumb in silence I wondered.
The farms are treeless.
The forests are rented.
“Cut grow…”
The days of freedom are long gone.
Trees are in cutting, and lugging and selling…
A slave to the game
Is woman in the sun holding sign, wearing cap, black pants.
Brampton, Bramalea…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem