Rocky Mountain Juniper
I walk among your haunting limbs,
Your age it’s hard to tell,
Counting tightly woven rings,
In what year came the fell?
Lying down with graceful poise,
Your species is a beauty,
Doubt that anyone heard the noise,
Twas lighting did its duty.
Draped upon an ancient stone,
Charred branches still remain,
Roots torn lose, bark has blown,
Harsh weather left its stain.
But oh the fragrance kept inside,
Waiting to be released,
Safely bound by protected hide,
Furrows deeply creased.
I wonder if you’ve ever seen,
On this desolate piece of land,
Or met another human being,
Where here you made your stand.
If you could tell the story,
Of all the squirrels and birds,
Nesting in all your glory,
I’d love to hear your words.
I imagine I’d still find you here,
If I returned to this place in time,
At least another hundred years,
Your death’s still in its prime.
G.R. Gaus's Other Poems
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Rocky Mountain Juniper by G.R. Gaus )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1923 - 1998)
(8 December 65 BC – 27 November 8 BC)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
Edgar Albert Guest
(20 August 1881 - 5 August 1959)
(27 July 1870 – 16 July 1953)
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