Mine

And this is mine
All mine.
And that,
That too,
That's mine,
And these trees,
You see them, yes?
With their pretty orange, red, yellows,
They're mine too,
This place,
This place is mine,
The orange pine needles
Laying on the ground,
Those are mine,
The whistle of the wind
Through bare branches,
That's mine too,
And the water,
Flowing, gurgling past the shore,
That's mine too,
And the current,
The bobbing of the floating dock,
The mumble of the distant traffic,
The falling of the colored oak leaves,
The swaying of the hammock,
The blue of the sky,
That's mine too.
You can have it,
But it's mine, too.
Mine.
All mine.