Whispered Wanderings

Majestic pine trees,
a congregation all their own
in this church of nature,
waiting for the snow.
They will not freeze,
their sweet perfume remains
pure, even in winter.
They know the pleasures
of the Spring thaw year-round.

And kicking pebbles along the river,
a spectator in the shadows am I –
content to keep their secrets
until summer comes again when I
shall swim in the river, whisper
only to the water and the air, all
those things I’ve kept close –
locked within the safety of my heart,
in the files of sweet memory.

klm
12/20/24