The Forest

Frigid freshness engulfs my lungs.
With the presence of winter
There is the feeling of distance between the trees
Most are gone now
Shall not return for months
The familiar pine, stubborn, shall not leave
Providing comfort to guests
In a time when seldom is there
In this time of eerie isolation.
He reminds me of what has been
And what is to come
And why I return
Every time. Rebirth.

Knowing that with each new blossom,
A new scent.
A new feel to the forest,
As friends of summer
Awake from their slumber.
Welcomed by the pine.

Each year passes
And I grow with yew
My roots entwined with willow
As they shall continue.