There are multiple versions of this poem in Vester's hand. A draft which preceded the final version appears below.
Oh, ghostly pine standing alone
In barren waste of mountains
Where once grew trees so tall and green
Among the bubbling fountains.
There are no branches on your trunk.
From you they have been taken.
They could not stand the strain you stood.
When by winds you were shaken.
Old Pine you tower like a spire
While slowly you're decaying
Someday you will crash to the earth
The elements obeying.
The water down the canyons roll
When heavy rain is falling
All filled with muddy sediment
The sight is quite appalling.
The mat of needles, leaves and grass
When forests here were growing
Absorbing raindrops as they fell
Kept rivers from o'erflowing
Along came greedy, wasteful men
Destroying game and timber
With them came also many fires
With glowing flame and ember.
The flames spread o'er the forest floor
Its cover burned like tinder
Then leaping up into the trees
It burned with none to hinder.
The wind came whistling through the trees
ach dying blaze renewing
Ah ruthless man your carelessness
Has been your own undoing.
This forest was a gift from God
With wildlife in it playing.
Now man for your unthoughtfulness
The penalty is paying.
Vester Cooper
c 2008, Vester Cooper Trust. All rights reserved.
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