Imagine

“In five short days,
our beautiful trees
were gone.”
“I am a homeless
doe and I don’t like
not having any more
trees, because they
were my friends, and
they protected me.”
“In them, I felt safe.”
“I imagine those who
used those chain saws
and axes and even
steam shovels got
a kick out of it all,
but I sure didn’t.”
“All they did was
destroy my
beloved nature.”
“I sip water from
the lake now, but
I feel cold and lonely.”
“I am not sure what
to do with all this
openness.”
“I feel hunted.”
“I’m imagining
myself among
the trees again,
but it’ll probably
never happen.”

31 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
11-15-17