Scots Pine

Scots Pine

 

there is a whisper in the air

silence-pure

a mountain breeze caresses

attentive leaf-bound boughs

swaying regally

 

picking a cone from the ground

you wonder aloud if they have always been there

these trees

these cones

 

“if you take one home

does it open and close with time?”

 

obscurely

I am reminded of your heart

and love’s inconstancy

and know I cannot answer

Comments are closed.

Powered by WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: