Home > Poetry > Line of Pine Trees

Line of Pine Trees

The remaining buildings waiting
Only for the bulldozer and the backhoe
An industrial park
In the last few hundred sunsets of its life

These pines wait with needles browning
Though crowns still pregnant with pine cones
Surrounded by asphalt left with no room
For young to fall not too far from the tree

At their gnarled feet the needles a carpet
Fragrantly scented in which nothing grows
All once young now old

Even the train
Wheezes down the warped and bumpy tracks
At six miles per hour or so
With no place much to go

These trees have seen this train go by
A million times by now

They’re still here and so am I

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