I am ancient

          I am ancient.
My roots grow deep and firm in the earth beneath me.

I am witness to the birth of spring and the cold,
hard death of winter… again and again and again.

I stand strong against the harsh winds, rain and snow.
I bask in the glory of protecting those below
from the heat of the sun.

Age has left my trunk barren, slowly rotting
away with the years. Now a room of many guises.

A shelter. A hideout. A place for secrets.

Secrets I guard and hold close, like a babe in the womb.

But secrets become tainted as the years pass, like the
that runs through my bark.

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