We heard the wind, but not the pine
when it fell in the storm last night,
leaving the daffodils undisturbed.
It looks so peaceful lying there,
little green plants still clinging
to its upturned roots and trunk.
Even the grass on the intact side
stayed as smooth as a blanket
pulled up to a sleeping head.
There is still life, deep down,
where the tree holds on
to the soil that sheltered it.
Tomorrow, some dry branches
will be hauled away, but the tree
lives on, connected to the earth.
Last year’s fallen pine inspired several poems and quite a few photos.