Silent guards

     A dense fog danced through the birch trees like a wrapping of sorts. It crept around the mighty trees as if trying to squeeze deep and hidden secrets. The trees stood tall and silent. The ages of time did tell stories of battles and chase. The mighty trees seeing all and speaking nothing. It wasn’t their place to spin yarns for all to know. The forest was a sanctuary where everything that happened remained there never leaving not even on the whispers of the wind.

     Like torture of sorts, the birch trees were frozen with winters rage, and some were sacrificed with the flames of fire, but none ever spoke. The fallen scattered about the forests floor were a tribute to their strength and their promise of silence. If one were to walk deep into the realm of the deepest woods, they would see these giant soldiers, keepers of words and deeds standing tall and forever proud, even as the dense fog keeps trying to squeeze from them the secrets, they keep.

www.facebook.com/mikeoconnor-author

www.michaeloconnorwriter.com