Drabble: The Forest Maiden – by Anna Salonen

by specklit

I met her in the spring, when she wore the palest green birch leaves.

Oh, how we danced.

In the summer, dewy flowers blossomed on her brow, and her kisses tasted of sunlight and the morning rain.

When fall arrived, she came to me crowned with fiery leaves and rowan berries, the scent of moldering apples on her breath.

In the winter, she lay under a downy blanket of snow, still and cold.

At the first touch of the thaw,

She stirred,

a tiny sapling cradled in her hands.

I planted it in my back yard, next to the roses.

Author’s Note: I saw a wonderful modern-dance piece where the performers danced with real birch trees.

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