I Pine
Among a stand of pines I lived my life,
blissful in the ignorance of my own fate.
Tall and proud, my fellow trees and I
stood along a ridge that overlooked a lake -
its crystal surface mirroring our beauty.
Underneath big sky
and seeming to lean against a mountain,
we reveled in the gifts of our mother nature.
Oftentimes we felt the breath of breezes at our backs
and cooling downpours in the summer heat.
We saw and heard the scampering of squirrels and rabbits;
We watched as deer and other woodland creatures
stopped to drink at the clear lake or came to visit us.
Birds of many sorts serenaded us both day and night;
Crickets, bees and other insects came to see us too.
Seasons came and went.
Still young, I kept growing on the south fringe of my stand.
This winter as new snow glistened on the ground,
there came intruders to our happy spot.
Wielding axes, two men chopped me down.
Now I stand alone, uprooted and separated from my stand.
No birds adorn my limbs.
Instead I’m wearing garlands of garish gold
and big red bulbs are hanging from my arms.
No moon or stars of night shine above me,
but a silver plastic star is tacked on top my head.
I’m suffocated by this too-warm room
with blinking lights everywhere around me
And myriads of gifts brightly wrapped
piled high and pressed against my trunk.
No longer one of many, I am one alone
And the lovely stand of which I was but one small part
has been replaced by an old and rusty stand for Christmas trees,
a stand that now contains me,
for I no longer stand as one part of a whole.
Rootless and wondering what will become of me. . .
I pine.
Written 9/15/12 for Debbie Guzzi's "Stand" Poetry Contest
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