in the pines

© 2012 S. D. Stewart, Oregon Ridge

Monday afternoon, along the creek, I found a copse of pines and entered there. It was a day of reckoning, I reckoned, facing forward, rooted in time’s peat. I crushed the needles in my hands and breathed. A white-throated sparrow flitted at my feet. It was a moment, in the pines, and I lived it.

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1 Comment

  1. I like the telling of this moment.



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