BALANCE

As the pointy pine pierced the moon

With its sticky fingered prod

It held the moon in its grasp.

The tree was sovereign

And smiled the smirk of self-satisfaction.

"It's mine, you know, all mine."

And for awhile it was.

But when the reality of gravity demanded release,

It became sovereign and the tree stood alone

Minus its one ornament.

Time sneak attacks and takes away our possessions

And our domains.

It takes away our pride and our hope.

At just the moment we thought

We were in control.