Trees Fall

The trees fall, one by one
in the place you and I loved.
Our path has been marred
by the tires of lumber trucks,
tearing down the magical forest
where we danced under moonlight.
Was our tree the first to go?
The bent pine that you carved
our initials onto with your pocket knife,
after we made love underneath it for the first time.
Our afterglow made the moon jealous
that night so long ago.
Love made us magical, enchanted by stardust.
And now...
squirrels scurry away, birds fly into the sun
as the air is filled with angry saws buzzing,
cutting and destroying the woods.
Soon new homes will decorate the land,
instead of the deep rooted pines and oaks.
I wonder if on misty-tinted nights,
the new inhabitants will hear our laughter
and see us dance under moonlight?
Though they may erase the forest,
no one can take away the magic of love.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
More of the wooded area around my neighborhood is falling away. Lumber trucks arrived yesterday and I heard saws blasting today as I left for work. I remember the trails and how we used to walk them when I was a teen. But in recent years, the land has been sold and "No Trespassing" Signs have gone up.