Whispers

In the deep woods
Whispered voices speak
Of past summers
And joyous days
In sun dappled warmth

Chilled days stealing leaves
As Winter calls to fall
Grip the earth, still warm
With roots of ages past
Few will visit these barrens

So we will sleep in silence
Wrapped in snowy days
The quiet of winter comes
Now rest on hidden trails
Awaiting spring and the coming sun

Stoic Poetry