The Forest of Be and Not Be
The Forest of Be and Not Be;
or, Thoughts on a Rainy Sunday in December
Snow
hiding the forest floor
where small creatures busily tunnel
safer from the owl.
Warm wind
rolling down the hill
pushing fog and leaving it behind
to smudge contours revealed by snow.
Trunks
black with rain and glaze
reaching starkly from snow volcanoes
pointing out the fog.
Green branches
bearing the season’s decorations
of water and ice
turning to water
turning to ice.
Now you are talking, I really like this voice. Language of the bog. Thanks, I really enjoyed it.
Thank you. Take the person out, you say. I will give it a while. Just saw this comment. Thanks for thinking along…
Give it a whiRl.