Ligna Metallica

When I was little,
I always thought trees were abundant,
Never-ending,
Going on forever,
That's how it always seemed,
I would get strapped up in the car and all I could see were flashes of green in the spring,
Orange in the fall.

I understand now,
That I'm older,
Smarter,
Able,
That trees don't go on eternally and never have,
I can look at the Green Mountains,
And see the emerald waves reflecting the shadows of the clouds,
And I can still see the verdant staining my eyes,
Now from the front seat,
Instead of the back,
I can still see the maple trees in my front yard,
The ones I'm growing to be taller than,
That were mere saplings when we moved in.

But now,
The orange leaves remind me of fire,
Raging and burning the trees,
And the mirror of blue sky,
Reminds me of the rising of seas,
And lack of freshwater. 

I can now watch David Attenborough explain that we're killing the earth,
Something that isn't my fault,
But my ancestors,
I hear him ushering me to save my planet,
When I wasn't the one who caused the problem. 

I now see the new sidewalks being placed around my town,
And the city people moving into the old houses I know,
And see that the problem isn't just caused by my predecessors,
But people today too,
Chopping down trees,
Making plans for new housing units over the beautiful life-giving plants.

The New England I once knew,
Has changed,
Grown,
Not with roots and leaves and buds and branches,
Instead with metal and glass and smoke and machines,
Developed into something amazing yet awfully scary,
The trees die so we can build things that will never live,
Things to help us,
That is only tearing us further apart.

Trees symbolize life, growth, rebirth...
These metal beings are dead,
Just as all the trees we chop down become.