The folly and the ivy
The pulling of the ivy
In my heart and mind sits mulling
Mulling, mulling, pulling, pulling, pulling.
Against the grain of my conscience, I agree to participate in human intervention into the private life of the forest
Into that sacred, hallowed place
Where a love grows
A love perhaps no human can comprehend,
Marriage of a beautiful tree trunk and deep green ivy
We pull and tear, and rip away the giant cedar's pretty winter coat
Then- crash, boom, bang!
We look to see if a plane is crashing.
Alas, it is the forest fighting back, missing its target: we, the ivy thieves.
It was a show stopper, for sure, and for a moment, ivy pulling was arrested.
The folly and the ivy
The pulling of the ivy
In my heart sits mulling.
Naked, the lone fir lies still
Reminder of what happens when humans decide to save a tree.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem