A Poem Lost Its Perch
a poem about the loss of trees
Behind our house, the field began to cry. I heard the saws go working through the trees. Their trunks gave out. The iron mouths drew nigh and tore the boughs where hawks had ridden breeze. It felt like grief had found a timbered throat. Each groan went down into the roots of me. The birds broke camp. The sky seemed more remote. A poem lost its perch in every tree. I used to watch there when the house was dim, and borrowed courage from the branch and wing. The oak trees made a chapel out of limb. The Cardinal was a psalm on widening air. Lord, keep what those machines have shorn. Plant songs in me where living woods were torn.
To borrow from Joni Mitchell, we pave paradise to put up a parking lot. With all the data center hoopla, this has certainly been on my mind lately!
You’re poem hits the nail on the head. I definitely identify with your poem. Grady and I had the same experience. We built our house in 1998. We backed up to 40 acres of woods. We had foxes and numerous animals and birds.
And in a few years came the gas well boom. It turned out to be a blessing for us. As the gas was drilled numerous trees were cut down. Looks like a park now. No more foxes. We still have a lot of wild animals and birds. the land has been zoned for agriculture. So, no more houses behind us.
Keep writing!