I reach out and touch
The tip of the needles on a lonely pine tree
-As I pass through the park
And stumble on a tender spot deep inside.
What is it that hurts so?
When someone hits you in that spot with good intentions
The rawness of their insensitivity?
The universality of their clumsy moves to cover it up?
Or the fact that you had hoped for something better?
I pull my hands away from the needles
And continue to walk
July 26, 2000