I don’t like news, newspapers,
I like trees.
You know those oxygen breathing lifeforms, which attract and support industry.
Not the distorted blowaways which attract and encourage negativity.
Trees come in all forms and sizes, you know.
They give off all sorts of aromas and tickle the imagination in all sorts of ways.
They are so open, so gullible and yet so strong.
They can kill, they can be killed.
They are home to those who are as as they – a miracle of nature.
And they are the substance of legends, ghost stories and politics.
They are misused.
They are destroyed and wiped out.
Some of us read about it and think,
My god, something must be done!
But where did we read about it?
On the tombstone of a brother of course,
© 2010 bonetta hartig