The Last Trees

They point accusingly -
the last trees.
Gnarled, broken fingers
that censure carpenters, loggers,
governments, builders,
buyers of furniture,
readers of newspapers,

and of glossy magazines,
of pamphlets and leaflets

of books.
Their crippled limbs
denounce us all.
Especially those of us who love to read.
Those of us who read so much.
Yet do so little.