Family Tree

They chopped it down. Moving throughThat land between two riversIn stampedesOf angry growling machines-Hell bent on profitable purpose And a desire to burnThose softGreenblanketed hillsTurning the dirt over,Into the kind of green-which burned inside their pockets To them it was just a tree-A 100 year old oak,Firmly planted,In a 20 acre spreadBought and paid for-byContinue reading “Family Tree”