Green Peas at Stake

Cargo

For miles we followed
the big old truck on Route 66
with a cargo that hinted at tears.

Once towering and beneficent
the mighty had fallen
pinned to the barrenness
of mercy without
the tangle of boughs
and empty bird’s nests.

Still mighty those
true knight-errants
who once touched the clouds
with their powerful heads
glowing brightly under the sun,
but naked now;
creatures with no limbs
those large tree trunks
thrust on a flat-bed and chained
like common criminals.

They say, “Big trees
grow back too; they
just take longer,”
but who can say
we’ll be able to unload
the cargo we carry?