Letters – Spring scenery will never be the same


To the Editor:
“I think that I shall never see a poem as lovely as a tree,” begins the poem by Joyce Kilmer.

It”s spring and time for a bike ride out Clear Fork Road. We wave to the cows along the way, soak in the spring aroma of wildflowers and new grass, and huff and puff up the hill. Then we enjoy the view while we take a much-needed breather under the “leafy

arms of the majestic, old oak tree.

But now instead of natural beauty, only an ugly scar is left. Progress… I guess. All so we can get from Point A to Point B a little faster.

“Poems are made by folks like me, but only God can make a tree.”
Mary Eisenberg


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