Maybe Just One More Then

The Song the Lorax Taught the Table while We Were Playing Cards Late into the Evening One Night by Darryl Price(a Revised Version)

The trees have become afraid of our love song. They 

used to bend forward with all their might, clicking into 

place and building impressive physics. Now they carry their frames

backwards and upward trying to flee something always behind us. 

We were not good shepherds. We only wanted something to 

eat and a

place to sleep. You can see it 

in the faces of the colonized leaves. They hate us. 

The trees have become afraid of our love song. It 

used to mystify them and bring them into listening range. 

Then we fired the first shot, we swung the first 

axe, we cleared centuries of their stories and put them 

in toothpick jars.

They used to love our determined broken 

trails through the snow, but now they toss the moon 

high above our heads and weep. Their armor is broken 

all the way through. Even the haunted forests have become 

more abandoned than full of millions of tiny lights. The

trees have become afraid of our love

song. They are 

shutting their eyes again and ascending to the heavens without 

us. Maybe at the top of the world they still 

throw flowers at each other. The trees have become afraid 

of our love song. They hear it now as the 

end. Their march is no longer to reach the center 

of everything, and join in a

beautiful, joyous windy celebration 

of branches and bark. They need a healing circle, but 

it's all in their heads now. Only the saplings have 

the old dreaming heart, but even they are caged and 

kept behind miles of tar and soot. The trees have 

become afraid of our love song. That seems a real 

shame. Where

do we go from here? A butterfly with 

something important to say is still going to have a 

very tough time being heard as anything more than a 

butterfly up to butterfly things. The trees have become afraid 

of our love song. It is printed on their hardened 

faces. They do not agree with the meaning of lots 

of space. The trees

have become afraid of our love 

song. But some of us want to understand again. Some 

of us would like to be part of the healing 

circle without causing any pain to other living beings. Some 

of us will always admire the fierce beauty of their 

construction and join the council in the sky to pledge 

our own individual

devotion to their rooftop safety in this 

craziest of worlds yet. The trees have become afraid of 

our love song. But, this song before you is a 

poet's attempt to make contact and say we are indeed 

friends forever. You will always be included in our thoughts 

and prayers. Nothing would be the same without you. Thanks 

for such a lovely hill.