Short Bristlecone Poems

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                        lost in the
                         conifers
                            the 
                   bristlecone pines

                       out her cry
                            goes
                az Jane uv the jungle
                             to i
                          her lost
...

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All the people from the village 
are on the same pilgrimage 
and they know 
that they must all go with the flow.


It's always been the same story
for each generation
has the same destination 
in the quest for glory.


Everybody ends up
at a spot on the hilltop
under the big bristlecone pine tree
located in the middle of the cemetery.


It is also known
as the hill of bones
and as the silent place
for those who ran out of pace.
...

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Strong sentinel on high
Beneath a mountain sky;
Called by name Bristlecone.
Twisted tree all alone
With green needles so dark 
Life clings stoic and stark.
Worn wood with thin bark edge
Locked to a limestone ledge. 
Thousands of years flowed past
‘Gainst snow and wind, a mast.
No sails with which to fly
You grew gnarled by-and-by.
Drought and quakes, you did face
Yet you held firm your place.
Despite all nature’s strife, 
How do you cling to life?...

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