Sixteen
We plant fir seedlings across icy slopes.
Trees yet standing scrape and worry in moaning winds, showering us with bark and cones.
Will I see you again, should one of these fall while my back is bent?
The speaker is planting fir seedlings on icy hillsides while older trees creak and shed bark and cones in the wind. The falling debris feels like a warning, a small reminder of how easily things can come down.
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