Summer Strother (United States) published:
I ask the old oak what it has seen
Day in and day out
I run my fingers along its trails of scarred skin
And instead, it asks me questions I don’t know the answers to.
Like hair loss, the leaves progressively go
Until the old oak is hiding honest colors and acting a skeleton to the sky.
Until it is bitterly cold and the forest is mute.
They keep telling me to count the rings
But this winter...
28 days ago