If Nature’s wrath we could appease
By sacrificing noble trees,
Then She should well be satisfied,
For scores of trees have up and died.
I reconnoitered city blocks
Where people stood, absorbing shocks
Of once majestic elms and oaks
Destroyed by Mother Nature’s strokes.
Some split in half, their branches strewn
And lives extinguished, years too soon;
So helplessly they languish, prone,
Their false facade of vigor blown.
The storm recedes, the damage done,
The clean-up barely just begun;
But roots and hearts alike were torn.
We sweep up limbs and leaves and mourn.