Mountain Pine

Alisa Bates

Mountain Pine

(Ekphrastic Poem for Henry Elkins: After the Storm [1882])

Fresh snow blankets distant mountains. Sunset yellows the lifting clouds. Cold droplets seep into my bark. Soon the roar of the waterfall will be silenced.

I shiver. Will I gain another ring? How long will this crevice support my roots, before the rock splits and I crash?

During one late autumn blizzard, I gave support to the tree beside me. Still, I embrace her. Together, we survived a four ring drought, which left many of our needles brittle and brown.

My greenest branch stretches across the rock, seeking reflection in the pool. I stifle the urge to call it back.

My needles reach skyward.