Whose woods these are I think I know
The same as has been since before
Our kind came and knocked them down
To build timber, cities and towns
They belong to the trees
The animals, birds, and the bees
The collective keeping them alive
So they can nurture you and I
Whose woods these are I think I know
They are not ours, of that Iām sure
And they never ever will be
Bound to persist after humanity
Credit for line 1 and line 9: Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”
I like how you turned this into an environmental poem – I think Frost would approve š