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since i have been living in my vardo, when not on road trips i spend most of my nights locally, close to my puppet studio
on wednesday when i got back to my parking place at the end of the day an absolutely horrible thing had happened on a property nearby
trees that i have loved were gone
one whole row along the street, and 4 more farther back
i have so many images in my mind of these 4 trees— seeing the moon over them, seeing the crows flying home to them, seeing the fulness of their foliage and feeling happy they looked so healthy, hearing owls talking to each other and wondering if one of them was in one of those trees, seeing a hawk landing in the top of the tall redwood tree behind them, taking photos of the pink sunset clouds above them…
now where those trees lived there is just a great emptiness
where did the crows who lived in those beautiful trees go?— do they feel as sad as i do?
i haven’t been able to sleep well the last two nights— where their quiet presence should be there is just an awful silence
all i keep thinking is why? why? why?
i wrote this little poem back in 1997, when i saw another beautiful tree culled—
i passed by
and there was an awful wound in the sky
where there used to be a tree
oh great being, green and tall,
giving shade to all
you had no voice except the wind
who spoke for you in gentle whispers
and unrequited roars
now the squirrels are crying
and the birds are flying with heavy hearts
they have lost a friend
please whenever you can, save a tree