Read Poem: HARDWOOD FLOORS, by Samuel Newman

“A tree which has lost its head will never recover it again,
and will survive only as a monument of the ignorance
and folly of its tormentor.” ― George William Curtis

I remember when the first men came
Taking what they needed from the forest
Vestiges of a balance long extinct.

I remember when the next men came
Viscid sap and cracked branches
Etching their names into my memory.

I remember when those men came back
Hatchets in the hands that once held penknives
Actions practiced and deliberate.

I remember as they stripped me
The cold taste of Copper Naphthenate
The blistering heat of the sawblade.

I remember being split and splintered
Joints locked with iron spikes
Paralyzed and beaten on the cracked earth.

I remember every wail of warning
Creaking with each step that met me
Begging any end to the destruction.

I remember as my admonitions were ignored
As the cities sank, and the fields burned.
You should have listened to the trees.

Author: poetryfest

Submit your Poetry to the Festival. Three Options: 1) To post. 2) To have performed by an actor 3) To be made into a film.

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