The Life of the Pine
I like to pause & look up at the
pine trees, wary of the roots that
dance beneath my feet
The sound of the pines as they
make music with the wind cradles
my soul even if I pause for only
a moment.
Teach me about grief
& I’ll gather your green needles
to twist in my fingers
Teach me how to say rooted
while bending & swaying
What is place
What is time
How do you morn while breathing
new life into pine cones
sharp & strong
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“Teach me about grief” was a swerve I was not expecting. Which itself adds to the poem. I enjoyed reading this a lot.