Winter Trees

Bare tree branches waving histerically at the ground Wind is blowing Shadows, to be lost and never found The wind she whistles, alluring, as the Sirens of old Nakedness of Winter Nature, shivers in the cold As snow floats down, a blanket weaves around the soul Warm, the squirrels sing and dance in the nest inside your bole As evening rises, the wind ceases, the freezing cold stands still Wind stands motionless, behind the rocks up on the hill Everyday the trees absorbs the warmth from the SON Soon the buds will sprout, Winter will be gone Dedicated to Toquyen Harrell