Forgive us our Gardens

FORGIVE US OUR GARDENS

Forests flower in office block towers,
jungles creep off balconies
and sidewalks.
Everyman prunes, rakes, digs
and plants.
Everyman reads chopped down trees,
burns the forests,
grades the dunes,
stirs the poison air.
Forgive us our gardens
when Eden, behind glass,
reminds us of fresh air.
Where trees no longer exist,
life is called wasteland.
Before the end,
...the end...
Asking
forgiveness
won't mean
a thing.