Small Stone for March 8th

Today I searched for a whip that the puppy dragged off.

As I leaned into Camille's pine tree, soft needles brushed my face

And the sharp, sweet, piney scent mingled with the rich aroma of damp earth.

My mind flashed back 40 years to a backyard pine tree;

Ground hugging with boughs arching to sweep the ground.

Me, hidden inside, with a book

Laying on the pine needle carpet.

Content.