A Poem: The Pines

 

I sat on a bank once, as a child.
I listened to the pine branches above
move to their own melody
in the breeze,

and I smelt their scent,
enter into my heart, by a passage
I had not known was there,
to stain the memory.

So that now,
if you take me to the pines.
I will lie down and cry,
at the sound of wind,

in the trees.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry

Image:  Flickr, Berlt Sundman

 

One thought on “A Poem: The Pines

  1. oh wow that is deep and beautiful – and sad, or wonderful ? Waiwera, Lonely Track, Te Wahapu? xx lots of love, and the photos are just fabulous.

    Like

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