Now that we can bring them off 
			with such dispatch, it seems worthwhile 
			to raise the question, when does a genocide 
			become a genocide? It's like the question, 

			will we know when Earth is dead?  
			Though here the answer seems quite clear: 
			the sign will be the death of trees, 
			for trees are Mother Earth's lingua franca.  

			When the great sequoias breathe their last, 
			how will She speak to us of sky or blue 
			or cloud or white? When cedar forests 
			cease to be, how will She teach our children 
			wind or whisper, rain or green?  

			When does a genocide become a genocide?  
			Listen for the passing of the spoken word, 
			whole lexicons melting like the polar caps, 
			two lovers whispering I love you
			in a language not their own, 
			a child in distress calling for its mother 
			in the tongue of the oppressor.
		
				--- Julian Crowell
				My thanks to Blue Collar Review for
				publishing "The Death of Tongues"
				in their Spring, 2009 issue