a solitary duet

standing still unmoving in wide azure
roots sitting on craggy rock
needles of dark green float on foamy salty
the pine calls out to the other
a lonesome wail and melancholy

sing a song of deforestaion, of rising oceans
of drastic changes

the second pine replies, “at least we are still here”
two remaining trees
to the remaining trees

and they, unaware of the forests
that are too far to see
or are the forests gone

the first pine wonders aloud
the second cries
and the wind gives no answer

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