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
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