A lone pine stands sentinel
over our backyard,
towering above the young arborvitae
who cluster, childlike, beside him,
watching his long limbs create
shadow puppets
on the sloping rock wall.
Years ago, two smaller pines
stood alongside,
branches overlapping,
arms slung over shoulders,
grown so close
they hummed the same tune
when night breezes blew.
swish whoosh whoosh swish
Then, without warning,
high winds felled his brothers.
Left as sole survivor,
his roots tangled with theirs.
Today, a mourning dove remembers 
and calls from his branches.
coo wooh coo coo.
A cardinal, bright as a heart,
sings from his limbs.
churr churr burrdeee burrdeee churr churr.
A yellow finch bursts forth from his crown,
morning glorious.
puh-cheep-cheep-cheep
The lone pine, 
standing strong despite his sorrow,
still holds song after song after song.