walk through the woods

walk through the woods
hear the caw of a crow
so many trees around
closer they seem to grow

harder to walk through the trees
the branches tear at the skin
blood leaving a trail
hope for an end goes thin

one step back
the clearing ahead seems out of place
walk into the moonlight
the soul thinks its safe

the wounds start to heal
the lungs are at ease
heart rate goes down
finally away from the trees

the path that was taken
now parts at the seam
a safe journey home
from the forest that was mean

Poetry by Mark Reynolds
Read 510 times
Written on 2006-01-20 at 17:10

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text

I would think most people walking in the woods at night would find it a bit intimidating to say the least, and I was born in the forest, saying that a nice poem all the same.