A red-tinged sunrise woke the forest up. I quickly was alerted to this news. So drinking from that steaming coffee cup I walked out through the snow to meet my muse.
The forest knows her just as well as me. No leaves obstructed softly shifting light. A warming breeze that might just set her free. Not sure if she was there although she might
be hiding ‘neath this bark that seems to glow while waiting for that green or just a hint as snow melts to that forest floor below the sunlight’s angle ‘twas a fingerprint
of inspiration, this place where I stood when winter sunlight shined throughout the wood.
