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.