Bristlecone Pine
Lonely stood
the little tree,
Alone atop
a lofty eminence,
Since ancient days
when the Earth was young:
It sprouted
when the space divided,
When the plain parted ways
with the path of the moon,
When heaviness sank
and the heavens ascended.
The last of its kind,
it lingered on high;
First and last
of a forest long vanished.