I face the wind.
Each day I wait.
I wait for the world to change.
People come and go.
I cringe at the sounds of trees falling.
The cries of animals dying.
Monstrous structures replace the rolling hills.
Fewer trees dot the landscape.
Dirty water fills the ocean, rivers, and lakes.
Mankind has marked the world
in irreversible ways.
Stop before it’s too late.
I refuse to be the last tree standing.