The secret keeper, the story teller and all my scars now show. Just like you I cry and bleed and no one sees the true frailty of my aging bones. My whispers are softly heard through every wind that blows. No shade you will find below, whether at the light of day or as the Moon is aglow. Left untouched, I stand alone by the sea and my roots run deep, my limbs so very cold. Though at the heart of me is a warmth unknown to most. If only you could see my soul you would see the reflection of a tree in human form. A weeping willow in winter describes me most.