In the silence the trees speak to me
of passing feet, and history
of winds that bent them over time
and left them drooping but alive.
Some stand above me in the night
sentinels under starlight
their boughs hang heavy, full of snow
while thinner branches seem to glow:
small bushes fluffed with cotton balls ~
oh how I hate the crunch of my footfalls!
The noise seems much too loud out here
where nature dwells so soft, yet clear.
In the distance traffic flows ~
waves of sound break over snow ~
at least they complement this scene
instead of ruining what’s serene.
Now a frame forms just beyond
a shopping cart, abandoned.
Not long ago it seems to me
there’s no snow on it like on the trees
instead it boasts a striking blue
I pass it by, continue.
Upward now my eyes are drawn
to squirrel nests long outworn;
they flutter in the faintest breeze
gently giving way their leaves.
I wonder where the creatures went
then wander on, curiosity spent.
The trees capture me and I give in
sigh in pleasure, blissfully grin
I needed this reprieve from stress
I came with much, leave now with less.
