a poem of life
Fruit trees drop them one, two, three…we twist some free.
Flesh-juice skinned; we wipe the sugary
dribble from our chins.
Time melts flesh from the fallen in weathered decay,
seed to earth to green in the flowering
seasonal swing of things
life continues still.
Pine trees drop them one, two three…
serotinous and resin-rich, pregnant with seed,
Flame sets them free!
Bud scales open petal-wide, exposing knobby core.
Life springs from ash, the earth peeled clean
blackened trunks rising like pillars of ghosts,
awaiting wing and chirp and beak.
Some birds prefer to nest in post-fire trees.
Time heals the scorched, the black, the white-ash grays
to leak green and leaf forth in the wake of flame
growth anew and spirit churning
Life continues, still.
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