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POETRY
The Woods
A poem.

by R.G. Trepanier
October 9, 2004

    I walked in the woods today.
The woods - quiet, serene,
    once ringing with the shouts and screams
    of children as their toboggan deposited them in
    a snowdrift ... or listening to the swish...
    swish as kids on cardboard sleds
    slide down a carpet of pine needles.

The woods were quiet today.
    only the bluejays, chipmunks, and the other
    inhabitants of the lofty branches and the
    lower ground seemed to appreciate the
    reason for its existence.

The woods -
    soon to be the site for houses, and
    garages, swingsets and pools, seems to have
    lost its hold on young people and
    kids ... who used to romp, ski, slide and
    play in its vastness, the occasional
    slap of a mosquito, and the seasonal
    "Ma, I found a woodtick!"

    Today I heard a chain saw eat
    its way through another tree.

The woods are dying.

About the Author:
The author, being a Yooper is a naturalist at heart and enjoys the out-of-doors when and as he can.


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