This painting is A1 (594mm x 841mm) in size.
 
Gliders
 
Chainsaw and clearfell, ringbark and dozer,
Harsh words stir fears and passion and hate,
Sounding a warning of dead barren landscape,
Watching proud forest become real estate.
 
Some other words slip with ease from the heart,
Word-painting scenes of gliding and grace,
Mahogany, feather-tail, squirrel and sugar,
Acrobats clinging to time and to place.
 
Language is sly when used to convince
That absence and loss is the sure price to pay,
For progress and ease and throwaway things,
And owning the earth is leading the way.
 
Gliders will go and may never return,
If comes a sad time when all forests perish,
And yet still some small secret spaces persist,
In rare sylvan remnants to guard and to cherish.