Into deepest black
Oh, to float in the middle of a forgotten ocean
Into treacherous waves
Weighted and heavy
Save The Trees
We have to save the trees, for the trees are our protectors.
These men and their machines who are the designated collectors,
Of Sequoia, and Sycamore, of Beech, and Blue Spruce,
The small earthy creature unfurls from its curved in body, smudged with dirt from a winter's sleep.
It blinks its large spring green eyes, blinded by the ever-shining sun.
The creature is a wood sprite. Her name is Petra.
Cut me, bruise me, tear me from my skin.
you will never break me.
yell and scream and curse and hit me.
you will never win.
because i am the dark, the soul-bonded sorrow.
long forgotten tears stain my cheeks.