Holly hides amongst the pine trees,
The spruces, and the larches
That fill the forest in which she sits
Cross-legged in the middle of the city.
Nowhere near she’d find this peaceful
Meditation, breathing slow.
Surrounded by the forest
That will never let her go.

Even after leaving
Her meditated state
Holly’s hugged by the bark—
Stained with green and smokey gray.
Even plodding down the streets,
Passing by her childhood home,
She’s surrounded by the forest
That will never let her go.

In her room her comforts are plenty:
Lapping water from the Lake,
An orchid candle casting smells,
And Taylor vinyls swiftly play.
The door is locked but even here
She feels the grip of roots on the floor,
Surrounded by the forest
That will never let her go.