What is Now Grass

When you look at where a forest once was
You don’t always see the tree stumps
In fact, if the forest is truly not wanted, you’ll instead see
Nothing but a field of grass
Nothing but whatever we chose to place on top of it

 I don’t believe in ghosts
But it has always struck me as terrifying
That if you visit a battlefield, besides the signage
You wouldn’t even know that people had died there
Assuming that the battle happened long enough ago, you may not
Know even where you are

 Image coming across a field of grass
A park
A place of sanctuary
But you can’t look down, because who knows what once lay
Under your feet
So we can assume it was trees, and replant them

 And if we were wrong?

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