Cold wind whips through the Trees,
the Trees that are watching me,
on the first day of winter.
In the middle of the woods I stand,
alone and quiet,
waiting for the man.

I stand still for hours,
listening to the sound of the rustling leaves,
until finally a shadow appears
in the distance,
coming closer.

I stand still and he comes forward,
wrapped in a red scarf,
a black trench coat sweeps the forest floor
as he beckons me forward.
But I do not move.

Not yet.
It is not time yet.

The wind blows harder
and the leaves begin to swirl.
He takes two steps forward
and beckons me again.
But I do not move.

Not yet.
It is not time yet.

The sun sets and the cold seeps in.
The woods are dark.
The wind continues to blow
and I wait
until midnight on the first day of winter.

The man takes three more steps forward
and beckons me again.
I go.
It is time now.
The deal has been made and I have his word.

She is safe now.
She will always be safe now.

I take his hand and close my eyes,
but it is okay. She is safe now.