THE FOREST

He wondered her in all her moods
And in her sweetest hour
When first the icy snow would melt
And wake the waiting flower.

She covered him in the heat of noon
From the blazing summer sun
When the squirrels would scold along his path,
And the crystal brook would run.

And late in the fall when the leaves were gone
And her nurturing arms were bare.
When all her birds and color had flown,
Yet still his heart stayed there.

Then in the crystal white of the winter night
When the frost cracked trees would bloom,
Abandoned paths would beckon him,
Lit by the rising moon.

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