Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 – For Your Consideration:  Seeing The Forest
“YOU ARE THE LAST TREE STANDING IN THE FOREST. WRITE YOUR POEM FROM THIS VIEWPOINT!”

Was it something I said? Must
be a trick, and I am the one
they picked to nettle. Slept
so peacefully, listening
to the Nightingale croon.
Being a fine Fir, I know
scent would not be a problem,
especially to that odoriferous
Oak. Actually there is a strange
smell. Oh no! Off in the distance
I see smoke rising. Bending
my branches low, I check
each direction. Had to be
a forest fire, and I am
the only tree left. My leaves
shiver with fear. No doubt,
a human’s carelessness with
matches has caused it. Soon
I will be gone. Soon
there will be no forest.

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