Trees

I.

The trees,

Echoing lost songs,

All for those who listen.

A forest,

Like a young gossip troupe,

Sharing secrets.

II.

Alone,

I wander a forest

Dreaming of fickle things:

Love-

In all forms- must be

Beautiful, I’d like to think.

III.

I asked.

You weren’t one to listen,

But you heard.

My pleas

Of newfound hope and love

Deep within me were filled.

IV.

Alone, yes,

But lonesome, nay…

I have the trees and hope to guide me lest I stray.