There is a tall loblolly pine
beside a gravel road I sometimes drive
beyond a weathered dead end sign.
It's years since it was last alive.

I first saw it with needles brown
at the start of leaf fall's season.
The tree stood straight from root to crown.
It died from no apparent reason.

And time passed on and time passed on
until the tree stood needle bare,
a thing wood peckers drummed upon.
I once saw a horned owl perch there.