cedar
pete
here
is
my
home
forever
and
never
as
i
sit
here
in
my
cell
like
room
in
the
residence
of
university
blathering
away
my
mind
is
on
my
home
.
they
grew
on
the
river
where
i
grew
,
they
where
the
common
feature
in
the
forest
of
my
early
life
and
they
ring
the
lakes
of
the
forest
of
the
maturing
though
here
in
the
belly
of
this
horrible
horrible
city
(
though
this
one
is
not
that
bad
,
ottawa
it
seems
is
healtier
than
say
toronto
)
trees
just
are
not
the
same
they
are
pruned
grown
for
beauty
not
for
life
and
the
cedar
are
not
often
the
ones
prefered
except
in
those
rare
tracks
,
like
along
the
river
the
rideau
river
where
the
trail
goes
not
and
the
trees
are
tended
not
there
i
find
some
refuge
from
the
hell
that
i
live
in
the
hell
of
this
'civilization'
which
requires
death
of
all
life
consumes
life
and
that
is
the
way
of
things
but
cities
cities
are
something
else
something
destuctive
something
that
i
associate
with
evil
though
evil
is
a
word
for
fools
i
admitt
to
being
a
fool
i
want
to
go
home
and
home
are
the
cedar stands
perhaps
lebananon,
whcih
i
know
from
my
mythical
history
education
from
the
bible
from
the
epic
of
gilgamesh
from
greek
myth
from
egyptian
stories
from
others
and
more
tales
from
the
ancient
past
lebanon
is
the
land
of
cedars
and
for
that
,
no
other
reason
i
find
my
self
in
love
with
it
.
i
feel
the
energy
of
the
forest
and
its
absense
i
feel
the
celestine
prophecy
here
speaking
out
to
me
telling
me
that
i
need
to
return
to
the
forest
of
my
early
years
or
that
of
my
maturing
or
better
still
to
one
of
my
new
life
my
independance
with
strings
i
need
to
tie
my
strings
to
them
and
run
into
the
forest
of
the
shield
to
return
in
a
decade
or
two
after
the
peak
oil
has
reaked
havoc
on
those
i
love
adn
those
i
hate
and
those
between
who
i
do
not
know
to
the
trees
i
wish
to
go
!
to
be
free
and
to
be
seen
by
kindred
spirits
who
hold
me
dear
and
whom
i
can
do
the
same
taking
what
i
need
giving
what
i
can
,
doesnt
that
sound
marxist?
but
perhaps
it
is
and
perhaps
that
is
truly
just
,
and
perhaps
i
will
feel
tears
there
among
my
brethren
my
brothers
and
sisters
of
the
wood
of
the
tree
of
the
world
i
think
that
is
where
my
purity
lies
and
i
make
plans
for
it
to
take
what
i
need
to
make
what
is
necessary
and
to
strike
out
new
grounds
which
are
forever
old
and
to
live
like
a
human
like
a
human
not
like
a
plague
in
clothes
!
oh
to
the
cedars
i
go
the
tree
of
my
life
the
tree
of
my
love
the
tree
of
my
future
040308
what's it to you?
who
go
blather
from
