Forest

The days grow long, as the forest of evergreens grows nearer. A house set upon the fields can't withstand the onslaught of their branches much longer. Though I stay firmly planted in my wicker chair waiting and plotting a sweet, and bitter demise to their growth. I'm not a lumberjack, and laugh as my ultimate defeat looms.

They engulf my life with ever longer branches. The surround my house with roots that craft the foundation. They hide my pain with the green foliage of their leaves.

One lone seed hits the ground dropped by a crow who lost his meager meal, and I wait and watch, for it to sprout, to grow, and finally put my home out of its misery.