The Mighty Pine
By Cree Wolfe

I used to be a mighty pine that no wind could blow down, no insects could kill me. Now I stand here in a littered lot in a neighborhood that has no use of forest, woods, nor me a mighty pine. The Branches that I do have hang like a rag doll, my bark has died, my pine needles are gone, and soon I will be decaying back into the earth. No one will care, no one will know that I was once a mighty pine in a deep stand of woods. I was once honored for my medicine, now I'm old, and dying, and no longer will I stand, and no longer am I useful, but also no longer will I see the torture and rape of my fellow trees, my brother and sister plants, and animals. No longer will I have to see the rapid over building of this land...depriving the earth of all minerals, and life energy. Depriving future generations of a beautifull forest, green...green grass, and pine neddles...to lay upon to look up at the mighty sky. No longer will I live...to see the death of my mother, my mother earth. I will weep now...then I will go...I will live no longer..I will see no more sunsets...nor sunrises...I weep.