The Folly of Anticipation

The Norway maples in our yard have gotten old.
Once, there were three, but one's completely gone.
The others' massive branches fracture in the wind,
Like hips of dowagers on ice. They've crushed
Our hedges and our cars. It's time for them to go.
It's sad to think that those who had envisioned such
Impressive trees moved off soon after planting them.
What they had hoped to see, they didn't. We did.
Likewise, when we have the maples felled, and then
Plant other trees, elms this time or sycamores,
We'll be long-gone before they're large. Such is
The foolishness of humans: planning, living for
A future that they'll never see.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2021-02-28 at 23:27

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Liam The PoetBay support member heart!
It is with an eye to the future we plant that which we may never see to maturity. A future our forebears perhaps ignored when, in their ignorance, they destroyed acre after acre of woodland.

A thought provoking write and a reassurance (for me) that what I do will, in some way, be worth it to the next generation.

josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
Those who plant trees are benefactors to future generations.