dead trees i'm so sorry i'm sorry dead trees
that you were chopped down to serve such poems as these
and you ancient paper chopped up and made wetter
whatever you used to be probably was better
dead trees used to whisper and creak with the wind
against that lost music these poems have sinned
a tall sterile silence now stands in their stead
in the brittle blank air comes a howling instead
dead trees you were living once ancient and dense
I'm sorry that I have to speak of you in the past tense
just so I could print all these poems from my brain
dead trees your sacrifice was completely in vain