Through the trees

On the trail

In the Lost part of the wood

I gaze quietly

Secretly

To view all that I could

 

Down drop the leaves

Red and holy

Paved in blood—the path before me

Crunching

Softly

These life-spent leaves, discarded by trees

 

Nearby sits a pond

Glassy and calm

With willows and rushes and cedars and pines

Northern beauty

Truly

A place caught in unmoving time

 

In the corner

Risen from the water

Lies the abode of Mr. Beaver and his spouse

Woven

From a grove and

Simply a well-constructed house

 

Now through the mists

Of my mind

Imagining, I close my eyes

Quietly

Hauntingly

A shadowy shape in my mind’s eye comes nigh

 

Graceful and looming

Glides this creature

This moose with legs to the sky

Shifting

And looking

He turns and for a moment meets my eye

 

He turns back

His large snout

Eating the bush and twigs near the water

Walking on

Through the mist

As my own thoughts shake and falter

 

Eyes open

It’s done and gone

With my vision over, I walk on

Down the trail once more

Breathing

And living

Each of these rich moments, adored

 

anthony forrest