Growing Pains
For the Lorax
Dig a comfortable grave;
Plant a seed with hand and hoe.
Water, but don’t drown its cave.
Be patient. Sit and watch it grow.
In time, a tower, proud and tall,
Will rise high above standing men.
Long years without fear of a fall
Await you both above the fen.
Fast forward now to when that seed
Becomes the tower, tall and proud,
A home to animals in need,
Its children grow on limbs unbowed.
Be glad for your accomplished feat!
You’re work is done: you’ve reached your goal.
But now actions swift and effete
Will bring your sought after extol.
You look up at the mighty tree,
The child you raised, the seed you grew,
And at the ending count of three
You grip your axe and start to hew.
Ignoring cries of beast and bird,
Ignoring sticky, sappy blood,
Your planting hands, your hands interred
Won’t miss a single bulb or bud.
Fast forward once again and see:
What has happened to the dead?
A sheet of paper bought by me
To house the words you have just read.
(2014)
