Wednesday, January 6, 2021

pine medley

The machine in prospect park

turns christmas trees into mulch


people bring their trees from their homes

all of these homes with all of these stories


the ringing carols

 sparkly red ornaments

gingerbread cookies

angels on high


all these moments whirl out of the machine

into a medley


I breathe in 




the first week of january

grief smells like pine.


on a shining blue day,

the sky wide open against the bare winter,

in the park they make mulch from christmas trees.


the smell of pine all around the park

all these trees, from all these homes

now spread and dried beneath new trees,

helping them grow.


I breathe in the pine

 as I walk slowly to say goodbye

and wonder


what will grow 

from you?






a bird sits on the top of a tall pine tree

outside my window

like the star on a christmas tree


every morning the bird watches me

I watch the bird


Ki* sways as the wind moves the tree

but the bird holds on to the tiny branch at the top of the pine

to see it all


Oh, what a view

what a view






*Why I use ki instead of it when referring to living things:

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