the silent tress hold memories
of winters sweet melodies
search high and low
and in every fox hole
where oh where.. can she be?..
oh feet that quickly flee
who then holds your stories
or keeps you... in times keep
but the trees and stones
that stay beside roads
you gave a glance to safely keep
but in every time
of past and new
they pass by you
without speaking speak
beginning , end ...old and new
oh what stories you doth keep