Learn the darkness.

Gather round you all

the things that you love . . .

   Wendell Berry, "Song In A Year Of Catastrophe"




In the dusk of the evening and the season,

The wind and the light in their diminishing,

The pines still now and settled into the shape

They hold against each darkening until its

Distance diminishes too and takes them in,

The brown needles at their tips not falling

Now, holding on to the last of the light until

It falls and they are gathered too into the one

Pose and poise the pines become at night.


It is in the hours before when I dream and

Despair of the lives of my children and grand-

Children after mine, the legacy of less and loss

They are inheriting, a world of deeper darkness

They will need to find a way to light and love,

As now and here I wish for them their own

Place of peace, and I leave to them this night

Of bright stars, the moon nearly full, the pines

Stirring and filling with light and lightness again.


Poetry by countryfog
Read 982 times
Written on 2015-10-25 at 19:11

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Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
That is a wish we all share for them. And I hope they do not hate us for not having common sense enough to hold dear the the simple things (like your pines) that really matter. Very well expressed.

A very thought-provoking piece, my friend :-)
A sombre mood is set in the first stanza, as darkness envelops the pines. I particularly enjoyed the description of the needles, holding onto the light, and the alliteration of the last line.
The second stanza is more sombre still. Your concerns are well expressed and I understand your despair. 'Place of peace' is a beautiful expression and the final description brings some solace as the light returns. Serene applause from BirdBrains all (-:>)

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Having grown children of my own, I know this feeling, but I don't think that you should worry. Our kids have their own world, their own perspective, and, from it, they won't think about loss until they're our age.

josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
As you've so beautifully said, we all pray that the world we have bequeathed to our children be at least as rewarding as our was. I fear it may not be the case. But each generation sets itself a norm from which to measure. I pray they find their own unique compass and meridian early in their lives rather than assume ours which only fits our coordinates.

I grew up in an area rife with pine trees--long leaf, loblolly, short leaf, etc. What I remember most from my childhood is how the wind made the tops of the trees sing as it stirred the needles--or perhaps sigh is the right word. To this day, though it's mostly palm trees surrounding me now (they too have a sigh, but slightly different), I still hear that haunting sound in my mind.

Your wonderful poems are a legacy enough.

Ivan R
Great, beautiful, sad, desperate, but hopeful ... this poem makes you great, in the sense that you want the world to be better, as you explain the hardships, but still, with so much beauty that I just sigh so deep ...