Graceful trees, dancing in the sun, stretching their
many branches, enjoying peace and calm.
Glancing about, seeing man's progressive plans,
building and erecting monsters of doom.
So unlike trees, flexible, bendable, beautiful to
behold, man's buildings are rigid, unbendable, ugly
in wakes of nature and reality.
RoseAnn V. Shawiak
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/progress-is-not-reality/
