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“Corner of Martinsville Road”
By Marilyn Wolf

Red earth, upturned,
ravaged land
greets me every morning where
an old patch of trees
used to stand,
overgrown and quiet,
a tiny spot of wildness
between two busy streets,
watching over passing traffic,
shade while waiting for the light to change,
refuge for city birds and urban squirrels,
homeless now.

That patch of trees,
older than any councilman,
commissioner, or developer
who stood jury and judge
over its fate,
is gone now, chopped
down, roots dug up.

Nothing left but red,
raw earth,
a wounding near the heart of town,
waiting for retail space,
to erect itself
long before
any healing can occur.

 
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