Beneath the Snow Dream Pulsates
I remember the little girl
Who fed the wounded doe the pine nuts
Under this big pine tree, partially chard black
By the fire years before. Some of us the seeds
Had slipped through her fingers and lodged
Between the rocks, but a squirrel came and
Ate, except me hidden deep in the crevice.
Following spring, I saw a miracle:
A tiny sprout pushed out of the soil and
Grew. A spindly fella,
With soft green pine needles!
I watched him smirk, growing stronger.
Dormant in the soil, I keep my hopes up.
The little girl’s mom got her high school GED,
After failing the exam five times!
I’ve failed only one season.
That spring, the girl and her mom planted
A little tree near the spindly friend,
Making me sigh, with envy.
Beneath the snow,
I flex my muscle and keeps
My desire strong and high
As my ancestors, the regal pine trees,
To be a part of this mountain where
The little girl and her mom picnicked
On the grey moss-covered boulder. Where
The black pine trees stand meditate revival.
©Byung A. Fallgren
*This first appeared in The Avocet, Winter 2020.