A longing tree condemns.

A solitary tree stands quietly, on top of the Northern crest.

It stares out onto the frozen river.

It's rough bark protecting it from the crisp winter air.

Though conserved, the pitch pine needles still shiver,

as the Oak withstands the Summit.

Day dreams of faraway trees in torrid terrains flow through its branches ....

And just as they are whisked away,

an aroma of longing snaps back a bough ~

a cutting rejoinder into the mouth of the tree.

For the unattainable desires of a tree can kill a Mountain.

~Jessi (image and poem)