Saw outside a lonely time
shadow firs are teasing me
breezily. Their scents make pine
every time all kinds, seasoning.
Under skies as pure as opal,
bright night dimmed by grim surroundings,
worse by wind, won’t hush, but yodels.
Houses still for nature’s crowning.
For my birthday, I would like
tons of air a year for life —
swear to heart won’t waste this time.