Catching Up

You said that a tree lasts forever. 
Count the rings. Count the space. 

You said that the grass would stay green.
Count the clovers. Count the blades. 

You said that the tree had a voice. 
Listen to the rustles. Listen to the whispers. 

Yet when I see the ghost of a
headless giant 

standing where a behemoth once stood,
I wonder where it went. 

When I see the patch of soulless concrete
cover up the chalk sketch of the murdered giant,

I think, 
Is it time to catch up?

You said that a tree lasts forever.
Count the rings. Count the spaces.

It seems that all the world’s playing a game
of Catching Up.