Can Earth be Earth when all its trees are gone,
And sudsy waters have become unfit,
And poisoned life no longer greets the dawn
With raucous sounds that death has caused to quit?
Will trees no longer wave, with limbs unfurled,
On hapless Earth, that e'er in orbit roams?
Will human ego sacrifice the world
To satiate its lust for pompous homes?
Will distant Space look down on orb that's bald
And ask, "Wise Poet, can you name that sphere?
It's surface pocked with stumps? What is it called?"
And Poet sadly says, "Wide Space! I hear
'Twas once called Earth. But now, bereft of mirth,
I weep. That treeless orb's no longer Earth."