The Native

The stretching road
to life unknown —
carried beliefs
from old town days,
pursued by memories
into new found ways.

The indignant voice
was never heard
when they felled
the trees —
So we lost the birds.
We lost the wildflowers,
then lost the bees,
a killing of nature
the native sees.
Killed the spirit
of country life,
not known to the people
of a new towns strife.

Sally Plumb