I am Methuselah

​A gnarled old man stooped upon rugged snowy mountain slopes.
In his days, civilizations have risen, flourished, fell.
Seasons come and go, creatures to and fro…
Inches hold the secret of the years.
A silent sentinel, tough as iron.
Stunted in growth, not life.
Cold winters. Dry summers.
Hidden among others.
Pure, stately,
Free.