What if the forest already knows your name? Gurupreet K. Khalsa's poem walks us into a pine forest where trees wink, winds whisper, and belonging needs no words.
A heartleaf vine climbs the pecan tree and drapes across the hedge, and its reach extends toward the house and windows, finding new surfaces to consume.
Fog edges past the white cliffs as a small box holds stones and stories, with rivers stopped as mountains fade to dust nearby