The green door
The gateway to a house...

Death is close
Smoke and fire at a distance...

I sit there, waiting for someone to come
But no one does...

I walk around
No clue where I am going in the shape of a circle...

I feel the sun on my leaves
The sun is warm...

Amounts of acidulous acid
Bushels of burbling barm...

Rejuvenating
Dripping...

Seasons come
Seasons go...

Running this way
Running that way...

Shine
Struck...

It comes
It scares...

The breath of the trees runs through my lungs
The silence of the wood strengthens my bones...