Pine Needles Everywhere

Many things fall,
leaves,
acorns,
rain,
but these,
I do not notice,
for there are pine needles. 
Small,
prickly things,
that hang
off of pine trees,
as if they are holding on
for their life.
They will wait,
they will watch,
as time lingers by,
and eventually,
they will fall.
But it won't be so bad,
it won't hurt too much,
because they will float,
for their last few seconds,
and meet the ground,
the grass,
the roots where the tree
that holds their family,
will weep with heavy tears.
And these pine needles,
that spread across the moss 
and dirt,
will stare up at their sisters,
their brothers,
and they will smile,
knowing that,
no matter what,
they will never
truly be gone.