I heard the pine trees screaming, <br /> unmistakable, mournful and shrill. <br />The roar of the saws was awful, <br /> and I prayed for the trees they’d kill. <br /> <br />The calm of the morning was shattered, <br /> as chaos filled the air. <br />Across the pond in the distance <br /> was a scene of total despair. <br /> <br />The monstrous trucks and machinery, <br /> had moved in under cover of dark, <br />Now springing forth into action, <br /> methodically assaulting their mark. <br /> <br />One by one the trees they grabbed, <br /> with huge mechanical claws. <br />Then severed and ripped from where they stood <br /> with slashing and tearing of saws. <br /> <br />None of the trees escaped the attack, <br /> all of them, the large and the small. <br />Either harvested or horribly damaged, <br /> till nothing was left at all! <br /> <br />The hillside now chaotically ragged, <br /> a victim of the clear cutting saw <br />Lies naked and totally abandoned, <br /> a vista so horribly raw. <br /> <br />The trees now gone, no longer a home, <br /> all fauna evicted or killed. <br />No burrow was left or perch for the owl, <br /> their homes no way to rebuild. <br /> <br />No more the trees to sigh their song, <br /> as the breeze plays softly on their limbs, <br />And swaying gently in the wind <br /> with sounds heard lovely as hymns. <br /> <br />No more can we listen and walk and talk, <br /> so peacefully in that majestic old wood. <br />Nor even be able to find our path <br /> made ugly where beauty once stood. <br /> <br />Perhaps in time, half century or so, <br /> when we’re on to eternal dreaming, <br />The wood will be back for others to love <br /> and I’ll not hear the pine trees screaming.<br /><br />Bruce Bigelow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-heard-the-pine-trees-screaming/
