I Weep Now

I weep now for the trees

cut down for a rich man’s view

blocked, because he wanted them gone,

because he could, they an affront to him.

I weep for his callousness,

his rape of our lives slowed

down by the tree’s splendor on a Sunday

drive, replaced by glass and steel’s starkness.

I weep for my own loss,

and his gain, his power to take,

to have what is not his

to own, alone and selfish.

I weep for his power

over me, over us brushed

aside for his vision of himself,

his greatness at the cost of ours,

as I weep now for the young lives

to be lost in battle, like the trees

cut down for him who couldn’t

hear our voices, couldn’t hear our cries.