tree (111-1)

tree

"it would never think much about nothing. it just stood, roots firmly anchored in natural scape. it would not be moved by anything, or anyone. it listened to, oh so many songs. words floating by would in turn whisper truths 'bout bereavement and trust, elation or power. shape did that to people. mankind made assumptions.
innocent children would dance 'round the bark. they would also touch. their fingertips would melt away the crystal. occasionally, that did steal a frison or two. after snow, after winter, after wind, birds would return. swallows would gather. they would twitter for the leaves to come back. in no time season would turn again, to butter." 

woolf, 14/01/11