Taking Ownership

There’s a development going up down the road. I may have mentioned that a few months ago. I try to stay away. It’s depressing. So much woods. Gone. Why do they have to almost clear cut these things. Money I suppose. Lately, I’ve been seeing gaps in the woods in the distance from my picture window. It might be in my mind. But I don’t think so. Civilization is encroaching.

Fee Simple

A grappler works on Easter Sunday lifting
logs onto flatbed trucks. The hill is clear
cut. Views of the valley will be going up
for sale. A garrison should commandeer
at least a half-a-million, real estate
being about surroundings first and last.
And this viewpoint is almost made to order;
nothing interrupts an unsurpassed
perspective: river vanishing between shorelines
still wooded. There's objections to this plan
to build a great development on what
was forest once. That appears Utopian.
I'm sure the same was raised when grounds we live
on now were found to be acquisitive.

Of course, who am I to talk. I live in an apartment complex. Quiet. Woods all around. But I’m sure someone was upset when they cut down trees and laid these foundations. So I’ve tried to write a simple poem. In the vein of a Donald Davies. Not with his accomplishment of course. And I’m trying to take the other side. With maybe a simple wink though. Not sure if it works. There are only a few clue words. At least I hope there’s only a few. In this poem, less is better.