FALL
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree
A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast.
Joyce Kilmer 1886 -1918
––––––––
A jack pine is like no other tree
with branches that swoop and bend
like the calling crows who calmly crane
their black and scowlish cowlicked heads
grinning from claw-hung perches and beaking out
hoarse-harsh shouts of mar, scar, and war.
Steve Vernon, “Jack Pine Sonata”
