JACK PINE

JACK PINE

sink and wait,

wait—

you're not fly—

ing, you are

the needle brown—

ing drought.

UPON THE ROCKS

UPON THE ROCKS

all tails laid aside,

long ago they were taught

what it is to wait.

their beauty shaped,

like the cliffs, by the

constant crash of the captured sea,

by the weight of the waves

and the weeks, carrying away

all that will no longer be

a part of their whole.