Dryad

She blushed modestly and pulls about her a green mantle to cover her sturdy, strong body and her long supple limbs. Her head held high, her back straight, she sways to a fairy music heard only by herself and her sisters. Within her lies the soul of a dancer. Her arms reach toward and wave to the sky in a childlike attempt to fly. She laughs airily at her fancy and bows dreamily to the steady ground beneath her feet. She pays a homage of mixed emotions to the earth which is at once both loving mother and hard-hearted warden. In return for a lifetime imprisonment from which she can never escape, she receives nourishment and warmth and a cradle for her body when her soul departs. Turning away from these morbid thoughts, she spies me as I spy on her. Her light, breezy chuckle again shakes her dark form. Before returning to her solitary contemplations, she throws out her arms and sends a delicate kiss my way. It strikes my brow as nothing more than a puff of air, and I no longer see the dancing nymph but only a dark, rough, old tree.