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Bristlecone Pine
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Picture of surgeon50
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posted
I grow in dolomite soil
facing harsh elements.
My thoughts live for thirty years
with minimal nutrients.

Your wild fires will consume me,
but I grow inspite of you.
My bark is decimated,
Yet I will weather it through.

Strong winds spread innuendos
of weakness, sickness and death.
But winds do not contemplate
what inspires my current breath.

The forest seems so clueless
in assuming I am dead.
I am not dead already,
I am already dead.

Nick
 
Posts: 1323 | Location: Kansas | Registered: 09-25-01Reply With QuoteReport This Post
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Imagine my surprise when upon checking the site today, I saw your name in the literature portion of the forum. I cannot imagine why it has not been acknowledged before this but at least I will be the first.

It is my impression that this is your first poem for a good while. It is certainly a worthy and compelling piece that convolutes the reader's senses and feelings as the narrative unfolds. The end is particularly profound as it is both a play on words and an excellent example of how rearranging the words can alter the ending so significantly. It left me feeling......bereft. Glad to see you writing again.

Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional. M. Kathleen Casey
 
Posts: 619 | Location: Caerleon | Registered: 06-08-03Reply With QuoteReport This Post
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Picture of luvleetasha
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Nick,

I read this excellent work several days ago. I thought it harsh and exact - needing no improvement.

I've heard stories of hollow trees; experts can tell just by looking at them they need to be cut down before they fall down and kill or maim innocents . . . to the untrained eye they look as alive as the next.

Living dead.

Aren't we all?

Nice to read ya.

We must travel in the direction of our fear
John Berryman

 
Posts: 2526 | Location: MI | Registered: 01-07-03Reply With QuoteReport This Post
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