I tell you of unknown tree, actually two
Very last existing of these
Rarest pair whose limbs bend in breeze
Cling to another where others over grew
The Bois Dentelle have nearly been slew
True, I tell you, they exist on their own
On Isle of Mauritius in clouds
Elegant dancing sprays on limbs boughed
Tilting toward extinction, species postponed
Desperate in forest for their kind to be sown
Life ever fragile has lesson for mankind
Delicate is nature, so unpredictable
Not unlike poets, not wholly typical
Obsolete, humanity's inherit bad design
Man, save Bois Dentelle, allow history to unwind
There are only two Bois Dentelle trees remaining on the planet. The pair may slip from existence. They are located on an island off Southeastern Africa, known as Mauritius in its cloud forest. These two trees are very different from other species nearing extinction, in that they are at risk not for what men want of them, but that they offer nothing man wants. Rejected and overlooked, these rarest trees are victims of the more commercially desired guava, which has become an invasive force in these forests. I put to you, minds of reasonable deduction, what happens to poets when their continuation is found obsolete?
