Monday, May 25, 2015

The Pine

The Pine catches no tears
Instead, letting them fall.
On them, do we rely?
Substitute connection
In forests we're not shy.

The Pine does not warm us
Heat slipping through needles.
Never hot to our palms,
Though we try yet again
Yet under, we are calm.

The Pine will not live on
Won't grow old together.
Worn 'way by wind and ice,
As all fall in the end
Dead boughs will not entice.

But here, the Pine still lives
A home under branches.
Peace like dawn's-light moments,
Tension taken away
Safe within Pine's silence.

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