Tuesday, December 4, 2012

In the clearing of sand pines, a poem by Mike Marcellino

File:Pinus clausa.jpg


In the clearing of sand pines
by Mike Marcellino

In the clearing of sand pines,
but a small patch on the planet
Button and i find our
peace
solitude,
when the sun
kindly shines
on the clearing of sand pines.
Patchwork.

Some sap stuck on
the paw of Button, the standard, curly
white Poodle,
picking up needles
and match sticks.

We search inside churches
temples and chapels
for the meaning in our lives,
philosophy of life.

Button and me,
we find ourselves
under the sun
in the clearing of sand pines,
her burnt golden needles
soft beds
to rest our weary minds.
in the pines,
in our clearing of sand pines.

"We don't own 'anything',
i thought to myself, suddenly
light speed.

Everyone owns everything -
the things we and our fellows make
with our own hands.

The real treasures
though
lie
in the clearing of sand pines.

In the pines,
in the pines,
in the clearing of sand pines.

The clearing of pines by Mike Marcellino, copyright 2012

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