Terraform Abuse

As I listen to the inconsistent chirping cry of birds;
for they now retreat.
I feel the wind’s swirling shift
as ancient trees creak beneath
heavy weighted sorrows.
With dew drop’s kiss on dotted pensive brow
I taste these yielding words… heard much too late.
For nature now, she shyly speaks
with cautious earthen tone;
as town’s, it’s said, have hearts of brittle stone.

Her thoughts are hushed and yet professed
To those who seek the deepest depths
of her prehistoric charm;
Subtle heard amidst her breast,
confession of virtues gone;
this pain conceived in
mans progressive arms.

She talks of straight fat streets
molesting freshly fallen leaves
that change from green to brown.
And of forest ground newly paved;
perverse this brew of tar and stone,
Aesthetically intrusive
yet for function grown.

Harassing beep’s from horns
and touchy feely tires uninvited tread
on nearby road
halt her haunting hum.

Obstructed mother hides sweet modesty,
as she rebels; and rain drops tumble on.
As advancement’s hands feel up her hills
and lightning crashes rage.
Her timber soaked, she moans and mopes
as wings caress, branches bark
with unexpected teasing.

But she revolts, as asphalt’s prying eyes offend.
As we raises up power lines
and constructed concrete homes
in crevices now moist and wet.
Ravaged cheeks blush as she laments;
For innocence
lost to minds of men.
As street sweepers wash away the evidence
but not the shame; it stays
as her attacker
runs rampant,
and apathetic witnesses
cannot recall
what happened.