Pocket Fiction

Perhaps Pinyon Pine

Published October 4, 2017 in Arizona Stories - 0 Comments

Pinyon Pine

Blue on the red hill.

A fallen one has come to rest.

Knew the weather of averages, the yin and yang of time.

Anguished, over after 4,000 years of enduring.

Dies in a deluge, washed out the roots,

revealing this face of persistence.

Wild flowers bloomed in memory of the tree’s spirit,

yellow blossoms burst.

MR Stuik 2017

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