Waiting

The sun makes itself be known through my kitchen window, touching me with warmth. The wind stirs through the branches of "Mr. Oak", my faithful friend, standing alone, in my back yard. Soon, he will lose his skin of leaves and sleep in wait of a better time, a warmer night.
"I understand, Mr. Oak," I whisper. "I understand."
I walk into the living room where my spouse sits watching television, and I'm certain I wasn't noticed, leaving or returning. The television show has much more to offer than the changing leaves within my heart. I feel the wind stir through my soul as I make my way to bed, alone, to dream of a better time, a warmer night.