Poem : The Mighty Trees Of The City

The cold wind brings the last freeze of winter
The last frost of a bitter spring morning crunches under my feet
I watch as the sun reflects a thousand colors of light off an icy ground
Starting my day of work in what’s left of this ancient forest of trees
The forest that lives in the city that no one stops to see
Or what’s left of the forest after the city’s moved into where it once stood
Giant trees that survived the roads and bulldozers
Mans quest for bigger and better
Mans greed
Yet, just a few rings in their massive trunks of time
Growth rings that stretch through a century here, a century there
Rings from a time when their kind were many and man was few
From stone axe to chainsaw
From campsites and tribes of few
To suburbs and real estate signs of many
Somehow these giants still stand amongst us
The buildings and cars
The roads of hot oily asphalt poured all around them
Forcing their roots to dive deeper for life giving water
Or to push up the bump in the road
The crack in the walk
Fighting to survive surrounded by the city of concrete
The Mighty Trees I see　


Published at Books On Blog Sep 17, 2011 From the Book of poems called: Don’t Get It Twisted