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My friend
March 16, 2018
The wind sings a song and the trees teach me to dance.
I hear the river playing its waltz.
I feel the sun beat on my head.
This is the place I choose to spend my day.
Now, ten years later, I drive past this forest.
My choreographers once stood here proud.
Now, only stumps remain in their place.
The wind no longer plays but screams.
The rivers waltz is gone, her throat clogged by the garbage.
The garbage I watched her consume and did nothing about.
I’m sorry, my forest friend, I couldn't save you in time.
© Steve S., Marblehead, MA
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