Those Old Cold Men of the Woods
Against a night frightened white,
a tall tree stands - skeletal -
transfixing me one winter
on my woodland walk.
Small trees surround the tall one.
They extend icy fingers
as if to help point me out
to the taller tree.
The hairs rise on my arms as
I view the long black limbs of
those old cold men of the woods
reaching out for me.
For the any poem contest #2 Poetry Contest
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