Once, The Trees


By Mike O’Connell

the trees provided us with
flesh and bone,
for our benefit,
fact, fantasy,
and all things
in between.
the tree was
a simple thing.
saplings, old growth,
all reaching for the sun,
a kind of contentment,
just to be.
now, the trees are
overworked, over killed,
bled of their oils,
scrapped for fires,
for bags of bark,
for mulch,
for ease of spreading,
the building of
and the machines
designed to
kill them all.



1 thought on “Once, The Trees

  1. This is epically brilliant!
    I am working on a side project story about the magic that resides in trees and the power we have to protect that magic. I would love to somehow showcase this poem in there. You eloquently spoke the words I try to convey to others.


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