The Extinction of a Spruce

Seeing no light......................................makes me sad and everything seems too real, fated to sorrow, fighting weather; these branches shed and my drooping cones fall. Park rangers, don't let those sharp, seething saws make me writhe while they cut my trunk without any green foliage; whatever happened to human kindness and love? I fight the merciless tempests and wrestle with winds, that leave only the bark on this battered spruce tree! Visitors stroll underneath and don't notice I exist, the intentional arsonist drops a cigarette butt, to start a huge wildfire, and without guilt he runs off not to encounter the sentry, who wouldn't know what has happened until he detects the smoke and sees the first blazes rising very high! He will come to my rescue, but the fleeing man feels no regret; doesn't turn back to realize the loss................................................ Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci