Sunday, 28 of August of 2016

Jean Varda – Treesit


Swaying in the breeze,
your boat, your child’s rocket ship
made from climbing rope and tarps
woven from one ancient conifer to
the other
with banner hanging in between
every light breeze
every sprinkling of needles
moves you sensitively
on pine scented air

You said you can see beauty from up there
in between the checkerboard pattern
they’ve made of earth
In the morning the sound of chainsaws
will awaken you
from star studded sleep
the trees you wove onto
marked for cutting
with broad blue paint

our support holds you up
in the thin webbing of climbing ropes
delicate and strong
that ragged steel could cut in seconds

At dawn you see a bear cub
hunting for her breakfast
what shall be her home when all
trees have been felled
and earth is only a mess of dry
brush and dirt
soon to be sprayed with toxic chemicals

“Isn’t $80 billion enough?” you ask,
“NO,” say the broad metallic jaws of greed
that gobble the last strands of wilderness
NO, says consumerism
NO, says this way of life that ends life
as your boat of peace
hangs patiently on the trees

Jean Varda
May-June 2002 Earth First!


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