Tree Envy

The golden light filters through patchy leaves
casting dancing shadows on my skin.
I curl up onto the weather-worn bench
underneath the proud lodgepole pine

casting dancing shadows on my skin.
The shadows shift as the sun eases below the treeline
underneath the proud lodgepole pine –
my aching neck warns me of my gaze.

The shadows shift as the sun eases below the treeline.
I adjust to relieve the pinecone from my hip,
my aching neck warns me of my gaze
watching the persistent solitude of the pine.

I adjust to relieve the pinecone from my hip,
breathing in the sharp coolness of the thin air
watching the persistent solitude of the pine,
fragrant with falling needles and crunchy leaves.

Breathing in the sharp coolness of the thin air,
an iridescent beetle crawls across my mud-caked boot
fragrant with falling needles and crunchy leaves.
Like the pine, I let the beetle stay.

An iridescent beetle crawls across my mud-caked boot.
The golden light filters through the patchy leaves,
like the pine, I let the beetle stay
as I curl up on the weather-worn bench.