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
          poison 
          that runs through my bark.