The sky hovers over us,

Watching…

The trees stand where they grow,

Waiting…

And birds fly by wondering

Why…

But we pay no attention to them; we don’t even see them anymore.

Mindlessly, our roadways creep farther and farther into the wilderness,

Our houses spring up like mushrooms in the fall… seemingly overnight, as

Again and again we push all that is not of our making out of our way until,

The trees fall where they grow,

The sky hangs its head in sorrow and

The birds stop wondering

And just say goodbye.

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