Lucky

The machine pounds the earth

The trees drop like flies

The ancient truth seeps in

Nothing good can last 

As the babies find their mother

A koala old not new

But it’s too late, the grief has cut through

It’s far too much for the new

Journeying alone

Finding a home

Toying for time

Just like us

Sowing with lime

Nothing left is natural 

Preserved or planted

Likely wrecked

Yet here we are

Wondering why  

What is happening to the luckiest world?