WHITE PINE

Looking out the kitchen window
I notice the white pine we planted.
I think of the day you brought it home
from school, a small sapling.

We planted it in the tall grass and brambles
at the edge of the common land,
where the mowers wouldn’t go
and the deer might not notice,
a well-drained place, with sun all day.

Over the years, your white pine
blended into its surroundings,
drawing our eyes only on occasion.
I see it now, grown tall and strong.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s