PINE FOREST

Let us go now into the forest. 

Trees will pass by your face, 

and I will stop and offer you to them, 

hut they cannot bend down. 

The night watches over its creatures, 

except for the pine trees that never change:

the old wounded springs that spring 

blessed gum, eternal afternoons. 

If they could, the trees would lift you 

and carry you from valley to valley, 

and you would pass from arm to arm, 

a child running

from father to father.
 
 
 

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Page last edited February 14, 2000
by: PhoneBoy