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How you, how beautiful
was the green you linened
and satined across hill and dale?
How tall, how rich and savory
was the grain you lavished
so generations could feed?

How high, how bountiful and vast
were your forests, your lakes, your birds,
your cats, your foxes, your trout?
Your canyons, your peaks, your deserts
and shimmering, moon-struck seas?

Yes, and how loud and clueless
were the machines that ground
you to less than dust and pain.
How sharp were the teeth
of the particulate saws
that chopped off your torso, then your head
and limbs, only to toss them away
to bleed?

How long could you last
with dozers and toxic waste?

Just how beautiful, just how you
were you, when you were

. . .were you. . .green?

 

(c)  Phyllis Jean Green