Poem: "Tree"

© 1996 by Andersen Silva

I think that I shall never see
     A thing so lovely as a tree.
It cleans the air, it beautifies,
     'Til man needs it, and then it dies.

A shame we show no great concern;
     We cut them down, we watch them burn.
For if the last great tree should die,
     Then so will Earth, and man, and I.
A poet I may never be,
     But I give thanks to the mighty tree.