Ohrmann Museum & Gallery
U of M


And the forest dwindles; it will soon be nothing.
Shrubs sprouting untidily in scorched black earth.
The sun will burn the earth, before now shadowed
For a hundred thousand years, dark and dripping,
Hiding jeweled insects and thick-veined plants,
Blue-black orchids and whitehearts, red macaws,
The green lace of ferns, gold butterflies, opal snakes,
Everything shrivels and dust begins to blow.

Those who love forests are also cut down.

      Ian McDonald