Progress?

                                                                    Progress?
                                                      The warm damp mist hovers
                                                      around the hazy canopy
                                                      as the light appears over the
                                                      timeless forest
                                                      and into the still quiet air the
                                                      awakening sounds
                                                      of the sleepy fauna herald in the
                                                      new day.
                                                      Then! The Banshee shrieks it's
                                                      harrowing call
                                                      echoing round the startled jungle.
                                                      The gentle giant unable to run
                                                      held firmly by it's sturdy roots
                                                      is torn apart by the steely teeth
                                                      and with an agonising roar
                                                      falls slowly down through the
                                                      helpless crowd until
                                                      with a crack of limbs and a mighty
                                                      thump
                                                      lies life ebbing on the soft forest
                                                      floor.
                                                      There, where it has fallen,
                                                      like Goliath slain by David
                                                      though with characters reversed
                                                      the great Iroko stood king of the
                                                      forest
                                                      for four hundred years, and now
                                                      lays
                                                      still magnificent but lifeless.
                                                      There on the now edge of
                                                       the forest
                                                       wait the uneasy rest
                                                       staring resignedly out at an
                                                       unknown creeping wilderness.

                                                                            (c) 2010   Dave McGough.