Compass Northwest

The land of trees
was wreathed
in mist today

Wrapping itself
around the boles
and the branches

Veils of
melancholy
and of remembrance

It will be a while
before my wanderings
once more take me here

where my roots remain
as do the memories
of the happy days gone by

My compass swings round
to the northwest
once more

and the breeze strengthens
as I cross the sea
Force 7 awaits me there

The land of trees
awaits
my eventual return