Poem: Bull Pine

I sat beneath the bull pine

When all the other kids were off

Its warm rough skin comforting my city kid back

Looking up through the sun slit glinting

We promised to care for each other

The cups of water tenderly carried

Making sure the roots were fed

And my quiet moments in returnr

The yet unknown parts of me

That longed for this peace

Took drinks of solitude

From the cup offered

By the spirit of the tree






16 thoughts on “Poem: Bull Pine

  1. Oh totally. This is a true story! I used to sit under this huge bull pine when I was about 6 or 7 years old. I would water it (ha ha) and derived great peace as a little kid. I couldn’t even put my hands around it. I doubt many of them are even around anymore! It was so beautiful.

  2. Thanks so much Asha. It is not, of course, a Pine. It’s deciduous. But the Pine I’m talking about is from my childhood… This tree was the closest I could find in my collection πŸ™‚

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