Reuben and Cherise
The Lorax speaks for all trees
I speak for two, Reuben and Cherise.
These towering firs caught the scent of Lewis and Clark
On an updraft from the mighty Columbia.
It was the first whiff of progress,
And it took some getting used to.
The neighborhood was thick then.
Eagles fished from Reuben’s limbs
Bears clawed Cherise’s bark
And many long-needled creatures
With deep Cascadian roots
Stood tall in every direction.
Bye and bye, legions of white men
With sharpened axes came
To thin the forest boreal.
By luck of the draw,
Reuben and Cherise survived.
Today the grind of industry
Contiues to churn
Making the squirels run faster
And the ‘coons climb higher.
Train whistles blow in the night.
Rueben and Cherise prefer the
Hoot of the owl.