Pines

Photograph by Gamaliel Masters



REINCARNATION


A wind flower
grew among the roots
of one tall pine.
I thought your small
white soul was there.
You slipped away.

A red bird
stretched his throat
high in the branches
of the tree.
I stretched my hands.
You slipped away.

The night wind
whispered in the pines,
your voice lisped through
a well remembered nursery rhyme.
I opened up the window wide.
You slipped away.

        Irene Dodge


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