A Poem A Day by Romilly Wilde

White trunks like sentinels in line,

Against the cold and bitter pine.

The wind weaves stories through the leaves,

Of hidden pain and quiet grieves.

I walk this path alone today,

Where shadows dance and children play.

Each step a word, each breath a rhyme—

Lost in the birch wood’s whispered time.

From A Poem A Day: All Continental Europe