Poetry – The Last Tree

Poetry – The Last Tree

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The Last Tree


We cannot resist. There is pleasure in destruction. There is a cruel streak in humans.

One of the favourite stalls at the fairground is the one where people smash crockery with wooden balls. The line up the plates and dishes and people pay to delight at the way they smash, crash and fall.

  • The kid with the airgun sitting in his backyard and picking birds off the line, feeling a leap of pleasure as each one falls.
  • The idiots with the chainsaws who ringed a giant redwood to put an end to its two and a half thousand year life.
  • It goes on relentless as children’s first reaction is to stamp on the bug.

Life is not sacred.

There is fun to be had at the expense of forest and creature.

Even at the animal park yesterday where they had two amazing Eagle Owl fledglings on the lawn a man with his two children joked that they should be shot and eaten.

Yet we are part of that web of life. When it is gone we will follow. We cannot live on concrete alone.



The Last Tree


When the last tree fell

There was laughter.

As the chainsaw bit

There had been jeers;

As the trunk crashed

And branches splintered

There were cheers.


As the last bird

Was blown

From the sky

There was a whoop

Of joyful triumph.


As the last Chimp

Was hacked

There was a smacking

Of lips.


There were no tears.


The tears were saved for later.

But when they finally fell

There was a flood.


By then it was far too late.


Opher 15.5.2016

2 thoughts on “Poetry – The Last Tree

  1. My Salish tribal friends stress the spirituality in everything. A few years back, hearing we were having some trees removed to protect powerlines, one suggested we have a small ceremony and ask the trees if it was okay. We did, and of course it wasn’t, but it did have to be done. These giants were 175ft high plus. And when down lost count of rings past 175 yrs. Wood went to lower income folks that needed it for heat.

    1. Such a shame when those ancient trees are destroyed. I like the idea of ceremonies – if not for the trees for the humans. It goes some way towards the realisation that these things are wonderful, are alive and are important.
      I felt the same with my old cherry tree.

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