Fool at the Barbed-Wire Fence

Afforestation never
Ends, and won’t until no one
Controls the land—not the Crown,

Not the Party, not the rich
Who compete to collect it,
Not occupying armies.

That’s a lot of not. Not hard
To see why you might accuse
Quietists of collusion,

Of giving up, giving in,
Doing nothing much even
As the most powerful win.

You might want to contemplate
What it would take to beat them.