Enter Home Planet News Poetry of Issue #4                         Page 48
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White Pine

White pines blur
green, brush gray
blue into muddy
puddles that bleed
beneath a fuzzed
sun, dark limbs
cracked and cragged,
jagged edges
to stained glass
frames, spired trunks
and crossed arms,
only the peak branch
waves gently
in an unfelt breeze.

  Richard Dinges, Jr.