The Douglas Fir


At the edges of a clearing,

I stand soaring toward the sky.

My upper branches leaning to escape the shade near by.

Lush green needles absorb the sunlight and the air,

towering well above the other plant everywhere.

Dead drooping bottom branches barely stay alive

allowing for my canopy to continuously thrive.

 My roots hold strong within the cushion of the compost forest floor

absorbing all the richness and keeping it in store.

Resting in the shadow of the neighboring forest trees

I smell the warmth of pine tree air as it dances in the breeze,

not blown easily by the wind my branches barely stir.

I am a year long wonder…

I am a Douglas Fir.


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