these woods,
deepened quiet
in snow,
hold no secrets,
they listen
but quickly
forget that you
were there.
the steps you
take will
soon be gone.
your dark hours
are the same
to them as your
walks in calm
and flowers.
these winter
trees, they only
listen, then let
you go. it's
perfect that way,
as you walk
far into the woods
on that path
you have so
often followed.
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