Land of the stumps,
some call it logging town,
regardless of your choice,
I can’t help but wear a frown.
Driving along the highway,
the scenery just looks great,
but if you take a stroll in woods,
you’ll see the truth of natures fate.
Great expanses ravaged,
a mourning silence fills the air,
one has to stop and wonder,
is it time to stop and care?
Author notes
Clear cutting is done in such a way that unless you are flying a plane or going for a good hike you won't even notice it. But when you do fall upon it, listen to the sound of silence.
A contest entry
- Pick Your Own by Broken-Bones.
450 points, ended September 20, 2008, 36 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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I thought you really portrayed a haunting and sad image. I especially liked your final stanza and the way you ended with a question which really left the reader with something to think about. Nice work, Thanks for your entry.
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There is truth and wisdom in your words... This is beautifully written.. The rhyme adds to its beauty. Thank you for sharing and keep up the good work =]
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youve captured the image of this very well in your writing. It paints a clear picture upon the mind.
Thanks for sharing
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Well Done, Poet !!!
I like the starkness of your message: clear cut.
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