Pine Pitch Slowly, Softly
Pine Pitch Slowly, Softly
I look to the light. A blinding glare, eyes wide. Startled. Waiting. Interrupted in the middle of the night.
I look to the light. Hoping. Blissful. A headlight trance; frozen in its glow.
I look to the light. Now soft, like home. Faded, different. Ever here, but someday still.