I was walking along one of the country roads that border our property – a limestone base that’s been compressed to the consistency of concrete.
I was enjoying the cooler temperature and the audiobook of A Canticle for Leibowitz. The road is well used and it pays to keep your wits about you. The air was fairly still and I could hear a low murmur over the audio form my mp3.
An approaching car perhaps? No. As I got closer to a vacant property I realised it was the pines, seeming to whisper in a breeze I could barely feel. And so The Cant of Pines was inspired.
The Cant of Pines
Twilight
in pink and blue.
Needles sibilate in soft wind
As I pause to learn the cant of
pines
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