I am older then you
I am wiser then you
I don’t really need you, but you need me
You need me more then you need roads
You need me more then you need cards
I was here before them all
My roots run deep, yours are shallow
I’ve watched over you for hundreds of years
I’ve seen you look at me from through the polluted haze
Inside your little metal boxes
I clean the air for you
So you may continue looking
I felt hands of pity lay on me
I felt their kindred spites guarding my life
I thank you
I watched as they too are taken away
Good-bye friends.
My loyalty is to this land yours is to your pocket
I hear the anger of the machines
Cutting me
And I know I am not long for this earth
But neither are you
As the black sludge of bitumen is poured over my grave know who you are really killing
There is a tree I pass most days, for as long as I can remember.
Yesterday it was unceremoniously cut down. It made me really sad and angry at the same time. I wanted to scream out “help!” on behalf of the tree. The lemon gum from 1890 didn’t have a voice I tried to give it one.