They are somber and wise,With roots which barely uphold them.Their bark and bones bending,Brittle, breaking . . . It is the damp season,their gunfire-like crack muted,in wait of the hot hard summer ahead. Lovely and leaning,With a strange restless readiness about them.It is time, or it will be soon. They have earned their wrinkles and … Continue reading The Land of Leaning Pines