A Sonnet in honor of a small forest of trees that has been taken down in our neighborhood
The night in all its shades of blue
has turned into a violet hue.
No longer the stars; except one
about to rise; the morning sun.
A forest to be taken down
I write with heavy heart, and frown.
A thousand branches reach to sky
like opened hands, that wave goodbye.
No secret trees are our teachers,
poets, artists, healers, dreamers.
Most loving patient mother earth
we take and kill, whilst you give birth.
A light shines through your weary eyes
I hear at times, your late-night cries.
Patricia LeBon Herb
Middlebury
