Have you rested
on an old blanket
‘neath the big pine trees
feeling a warm breeze
and the ****** and dips
of the needle-laden ground?

Have you eavesdropped on the birds
as they gossip
woo
brag
calling amongst
the sticky pine needles?

Have you spied on the ants
on their no-nonsense march
or counted wispy clouds
that lazily float by
laying on your back
on a scratchy, faded blanket?

Have you ever marveled
at the wide, wide blue
that’s neither near nor far
feeling time pause
under pointy branches
lost in restful ease
‘neath the big pine trees?

© 2025 Joan Zaruba. All rights reserved.