Large protective pines sway gently above
And somewhere to my left, or maybe my right
A river runs, gurgling over rocks, pebbles, and sand
The smell of smoke flows freely as the sun starts
To set, revealing a being of countless eyes, all blinking
And winking seemingly at myself.
The sound of nothing, of silence,
Of true peace and serenity washes over me
As I sleep swinging with the wind
Between the protective pines
Above my head.
Between Two Pines
(For my Grandmother)
Mason McCoy
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