The forest rests its wet threaded branches with morning dew. Altogether showered and ready for their day.

Gauzy golden light held within wet needles. Wrapping itself around sticky branches in warm lemon layers, sheltering you.

Toes touch into the thick mud holding you, holding we altogether. To slide and slip and shift our sweaters and woolen socks, our dormant buds, protective bark, our skin so tight and splintered, bearing winter’s weight so well.

Sssssh she glides us softly awake in her slick cocoon. And slowly we rise to sing our together song.

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