The wood-pigeon’s call comes booming in
through every wall of the room I’m in
the bricks dissolve – there’s an open sky
that lets in all of its basal cry
There is no driveway, there is no street
instead stand pines so tall and sweet:
their resinous odour fills my nose
and golden sand lies beneath my toes
my skin even feels the warming sun
in my ears, cries of laughter, oh so fun.
Ten thousand pines stand all around
on dunes that rise up from the ground
and in high branches play squirrels, red
but now of feet have I none, only roots instead
and my arms extended up toward the rays
are fixed now, each of my fingers splayed
and branches and green needles have come
where once golden hairs from my arms were sprung.
Here, then, where I once stood by the forest transfixed
will I now stand forever, in-amongst, betwixt
the ocean’s raging waves and the hinterland
will I be forever a Pine tree – how grand!