voices in the wood
the dark has a tongue.
a leaf rustles.
a twig stops short
of snapping back.
the wind has a pitch.
it waits to speak,
draws in the mist,
puckering the moss.
memories whisper.
leave me a note.
carry my name
into the woods.
copyright WrenWalker 2010
photo by Rob Landry
No comments:
Post a Comment