there it stands tall beside a nipa house <br />its branches all cut <br />the climbing lichen and moss shall soon die <br />at noonday <br />wilting and stiffening <br />mummified on an early summer <br /> <br />when all the fingers are cut off <br />and arms stripped of hands <br />how can man be a man? <br /> <br />how can a tree be without leaves and branches? <br />how can moss and lichens thrive on such a cruelty <br /> <br />the nipa house triumphs and someone inside laughs <br />the sharp axe and the long bolo serve the purpose of the author <br />of this murder. <br /> <br />I loathe. I make this protest poetry. <br />Man murders nature unpunished. <br /> <br />No kind of poesy saves. Words are useless. <br />Metaphors are dead.<br /><br />RIC S. BASTASA<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-view-of-a-narra-tree-whose-branches-are-cut/
