Down the winding path,
Covered with a bed of wet pine needles.
A little girl sings softly to the trees.
As she passes, the trees bow and wave,
Their branches rustling in the breeze.
She calls them by name,
Her stationary and steadfast friends.
They know her call and the energy she brings.
Clad in a red, shiny raincoat, she hugs a special friend
As fat droplets of water splash on her coat.
She peers up at a pine tree, so tall it pierces the cloudy sky.
Her small hand rests on its thick, gnarled bark.
She whispers a secret to her conifer confidant.
The pine tree takes in her words and sways in agreement.
The little girl smiles in delight.
The trees are better listeners than her human friends.
They are the secret keepers.
They are her extended family.
“I’ll be back tomorrow” she tells them, continuing down the path.
The trees know she’ll be back and stretch confidently towards the sky.