Twistedand writhingundersunny skies,a woodedlabyrinthright beforemy eyes.
A tiny saplingbegins to rise,young,and unawareof itssurroundings.
Branches twisting,turning,wrapped aroundeach other.
Underneath the gray, winter sky, naked limbs dangling, unprotected from the snowy blanket.
A singular tree — sitting alonein the fog coveredbog.
Find a treepick it up
A pair of hugging boughsa forest reduced to ashesentangled in mysteriessoles…