LONG LEAF PINES (Poem)

The Long Leaf pines reach  up against the night sky
Like ink blots against a blue-gray background speckled with stars,
Slowly swaying with a gentle evening breeze like a sigh.
We sit transfixed watching tree tops move their heavy load.
But they go nowhere, only move back, bye and bye.
So tall, so tall and, yet, trunks so slender with needles long.
Anchored by roots deep and wide, hidden from the eye.
They sway, they sway while we sit hypnotized as time passes.

The pine cones fall from high up on the pine trees so tall.
Some can be found as large as a child’s head.
Here is, a keeper!  No, that one’s too small!
Which is the largest, the best shaped, open just right?
A thousand to the yard trash dump we haul.
The best are placed on the mantle or given as gifts to visitors.
But there is some fear that a pine cone on my head might fall.
While walking around the yard on a soft bed of pine straw