Death of a Pine

Adopted early after birth Replanted back into the earth From small to tall, a tiny root Withstanding all and resolute It whispered and it whistled Every wind song that it knew It's verdant needles bristled Glistening in frost and dew A friend to all both large and small Seeking refuge in it's shade To rest and recline, to the fresh smell of pine And a songbird serenade From green, to red, to rust, to brown Giving all it had left, back to the ground A pine that spent it's time worthwhile Living life with grace and dying with style It taught me how to dance in the wind Whenever it howls, be willing to bend It taught me how to whistle a song While giving back, as life moves along Like you and I, trees live and die When death comes young we question "why?" The answer is, it's all by design Down to the death of a hardy young pine. Daniel Turner