I remember the skyline,

timbered hills,going on and on, 

lush with tall trees- sentinels

of history, guardians

of vacations for

legged grains of sand

from oil stenched streets

of  summer cities.

.

Their boughs shield

from the sun and perfume

the lakes with pine ambrosia.

Home for loons and owls,

shelter for black bears,

and an occassional wild cat,

they surpass concrete

and glass with their quiet calm

movement in the wind.

.

The jukebox still plays

in the Inn by the lake,

songs that tell the joy

of trail hikes by day,

and pine boughed love

by moonlight.

07/27/2005

Posted on 07/27/2005
Copyright © 2026 Jane E Pearce