Still, Pine Trees Tremble

 

Flat brown sunlit lawn;
Stripes of light falling gently;
Color in the pine.

 Wires between trees;
Straight lines contradict nature;
Flat shine on my porch.

A last lump of snow
Lies against the picket fence.
How long will it last?

There's barely a breeze
As Chris and I walk the road; 
Still, pine trees tremble.

 

A dirty gray cloth
Hands in the middle of the air;
Someone put it there.

The ancient stone fence
Crumbles slowly in the sun.
Leaf flies across road.