The Djab Wurrung Tree

The stump stood tall, proud and strong.
Long dark branches flexed, smooth and pale, where it belonged.
There for the people of country,
Who have birthed under its montre.
The stump stood tall, proud and strong.
The wind swept through the green lush and the throng.

The dust lifted from the earth.
Loud engines filled my ears with worry.
The elders gathered but there was no birth,
Women ran in a scurry.
“Keep this tree!”
The tractors didn’t agree.

Thump, ZZZZ!
The tractors bowed down.
The people continued to gather around.
Cameras began to fall to the ground.
The stump stood tall, proud and strong.
Long dark branches flexed, smooth and pale, where it belonged.