Pines

As the mist lingers
on my drive in
see the tall pines
many and one.
Each it's own identity
together a forest
lining the road
walls of wood.
What are your keeping in,
out?
Whom do you protect?
Each one to itself
full of unique personality
no two quite alike.
Knots, needles and bark
standing tall
no aid.
Hundreds
thousands of you together
so stout and strong
year after year
on the same old ground
deep rooted in steadiness.
I admire you.
Not one noticed
or deemed special
except to yourself.
Together, yet alone.
I know that feeling.

The woodsman's axe
Finally fells you my friend.
I am unable to help you.
Did you live well
are you satisfied?
Together with friends
we too seem mighty
but alone again
we are small.
We too wait for the axe
to claim us
"don't ask 'for whom the bell tolls,'
It tolls for you."