Poetry, science fiction, fantasy, horror, and culture from a Lao American perspective.
Tuesday, February 10, 2015
[Poem] Rare Lumber
Chinese swamp cypress,
Rare groves in Laos at risk,
Like ten thousand things.
In Vientiane, a man
Carves tiny tales from wood.
A tourist haggles.
Trekking near Nam Theun,
Some question saving such trees.
"Sticks over people?"
Look at these green leaves.
Will you recall their essence,
Grown from our homeland?
Losing the unique.
A new human profession.
Some are now masters.
One day, our desert
Will teem with epic stories
Of what once was here.
Perhaps we might change.
But cash trumps nature right now,
A hard fight, each year.
A man. A blade. Trees.
Instinct and necessity.
Clear, who benefits?
Ten thousand things sigh.
The sun above uncertainties.
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