ancient tree
feeling the bite of time
chill in the air
It’s many arms now bare of green scented needles and abundant piney cones, whenever I see this tree I stop and gaze. I’m quiet. I listen. How many summers and winters has it seen pass by? How many dreams? And when the time comes, when the end is near, I want to be there to reach out and wrap my arms around its beautiful burnished body. And if I’m lucky, maybe, just maybe it will happen for me.
