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, with 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
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