Pines Poem by Liilia Talts Morrison

While looking at the photographs
From trips I took last year
It brought to mind a mountain range
Its’ forests filled with deer

The soil was rich with minerals
And terra cotta clay
The pines were tall and towering
They reached the clouds half way

I never had seen such lush growth
It all seemed grand and rich
As if a wizard touched that land
With a most cunning switch

When I returned to my small home
The sandy ground looked flat
The scrub oaks and palmetto shrub
Embraced by sandspurs, gnats

Not even pines grew very high
Nor would presume to try
To reach or even yearn to grow
In girth, but just get by

This also has been my life’s walk
Still wedded to a land
Where nothing grows to its full height
In poverty’s harsh bands

Why did I stay and suffer want
Why did I not go dwell
Where trees and mountains stand so grand
And people live so well?

There is a place within my soul
That needs wealth to deny
And trust that simple, daily toil
Is meant for me to try

May those who live where trees grow tall
Whose fields and cattle spread
To hills and valleys green with growth
May they enjoy their bread

But I was cut from other cloth
My path with rocks is strewn
My sandals often make feet bleed
My thoughts like hard stones hewn

While looking at the photographs
From trips I took last year
It brought to mind a mountain range
Its’ forests filled with deer.