Nor did traitorous Judas have the gall
To scrawl his name upon the bloody Cross
For all to see; nor did Oedipus,
Once blinded, mark his father's stolen hall.
This criminal, who sawed through oaken bone,
Thought otherwise, and left his oblong spoor
Atop the several feet - he meant a lure
To advertise his brutal trade, here shown.
No joy I find in death of healthy trees -
The hacking, sawing, tearing of green boles,
Felling that which else would stand for years.
No, reason cannot to me show degrees
That justify in canopies huge holes
Or naked trunk-stems like that fractured here.
May 15, 2003
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