Towards Better Democracy

Good words, well written, better the world. Good literature betters the world immeasurably.

Friday 29 April, 2016 Post Oak

I just witnessed a curious scene
I nickname this city the City of
Ten Thousand Oaks. This number
Is low and may be 100,00 Oaks.

Over the past two or three weeks I have
Wondered, here on Post Oak, the name
is a giveaway, about young oak trees in the

Median. Every second or third oak
Has a yellow tape tied around its
Midriff. Why?

But one sees such things in a city
And one day they are gone, not the trees
Necessarily, but the tape. And one
Never learns their purpose. Not just
Yellow tape but, for example
Small orange flags, “Fibre Optic
Cable” they might say. And a workman
Spraying orange paint on the side
Walk, a dotted line. Curious
You may ask the fellow and his
Reply may perplex.

This morning, a group of
Three, who do not look like
Worker types, heavy lifters
More office squatters, have an
iPad, some kind of measuring
Device, tagging the base of
The trees with small plastic labels
At the base, “100 23,” “125”
And so on. Like the kind, paper
White, that you might find at
Office Depot, small with white
String to tie. What are they doing
They lean back, looking up
Studying the foliage and branches
Of these mid life trees.

The fear is, “Are they going to
Cut them down?” Then they are gone
Never to be replaced and the median
Is destroyed to create yet another
Traffic lane.

So the road gets wider and wider,
To encroach on human space
Will they go? I daren’t ask
But in a neighborhood, as you
Stand and smoke and look around
And get familiar, day by day
You notice more and more.

Will these trees go and make
The city less human than it is
One more American concrete
Jungle, depressing as that is
No stopping, a juggernaut
The mindless, careless progress
To provide us with more and more
Of what we do not want

Malcolm D B Munro
Friday 29 April, 2016


Filed under: poetry

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