Elfin Woodland Poem by Liilia Talts Morrison

They call it Elfin Woodland
A forest stunted, bent
Pressed down by nature's hard hand
In rarefied torment

On slopes too high to venture
Snow, wind too strong to bear
Dwell trees by fate indentured
For hardship to prepare

They form a tight-knit picket
To ward off hiker's boots
A forest tundra thicket
With stubborn, twisted roots

They bend as blankets hover
In winter's weighty press
Then stretch small shoots to heaven
In spring thaw's blessedness

I, too, have been much stunted
By loves and hopes gone wrong
My feelings frozen, blunted
Throat choked to silence song

Like dwarf pine blocked from growing
To tall and stately trees
I bend and twist not knowing
What my full growth could be

They call it Elfin Woodland
A forest stunted, bent
Pressed down by nature's harsh hand
In rarefied torment.