MY ALDER GROVE
by Victor Greentree

Oregon--not a good place to live
if you're a tree.

But--don't worry,
they said (those young trees),

we'll be here long,
long,
long
after

the steel-might-raw-axe-swingers have taken the all-nite gray train ride back to the cold coffee morning of dissolving stones.

So, don't eat for us,
but enjoy.

This earth is no different
now
than then.

It is only the tumor
that black marks
a new high in the Dow,

while we grow here, green and fresh, like a witch doctor's brew
that cures deep down in some dank jungle as it kills the patient.

(Note:Alders are the first trees to grow in after a forest is clear-cut.)

I asked Night Sky Woman:
why are you crying?

She said :
I am filled with sorrow for a planet
that is dying.

But you are the one
who destroys it.
Yes, I know she replied
but I am still sad.

And then I asked her:
why was I brought
here
at the end
to a world in the throes
of death?

To observe it,
to cry with me,
to prepare people for what
awaits them.

And, if I could do that...
if I could
prepare them?
Yes,
that is right
she said,

You would save this world.
...................................Victor Greentree