My Forest

Sitting here in my forest, with my trees around me. Their leaves are ready to be reached and viewed and read. My trees grow tall and wide and long, forming rows of shade and shelter. Here i can hide my body and mind, buried away with the ideas shed from them. My trees can be dismembered and fixed. But of their relief to the soul is something new. They allow you to forget, to grow, to escape. How sweet it is to sometimes just forget. O, how I love my library.