A New Kind of Tree

While flying over the lush patchwork fields Crops growing to feed mankind with their yields Neatly lined with trees for a bit of shade Their patterns by ranchers and farmers laid. ‘Twas harder and harder to make a buck Then industry arrived, brought them some luck Give us some of your land on that high hill We will capture the wind, lower your bill. But then came more and more of the towers And soon the farmers lost all their powers Were these to be the trees of the future? No green leaves, just hard blades the wind to stir. No shade for the cattle, or singing bird Only whirring the of wind to be heard…