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.