A different wood this time
Path wide – avenues like blunt cities of chopped hair – harsh tufts for broken walls – a Mohican street of dream places
Creepy man
Keep walking – wide paths
getting darker to the clearing with its worlds – its building sites of branches –
Moss pools
I enter in on padded pathways
a spring beneath my feet
laddered blackened bark
dells and stumps with leaf lettering
I wrote my first initial and moved on
A for Alice for Avenue for
deep deep burrows for the hidden mines
secret ents – there are tree characters
older than the others and in disguise
They have penpals
and secret post offices – deep deep burrows
the moss is alive with a thousand stars
and a miniature forest beneath this larger one
A forest within a forest
within a forest
Leave now
Pools of water and tufted mounds
the ground is in soaked craters
for forgotten work – deep deep below
feet push on leaden roofs
(I wonder when this water came)
the path is a stream – then clear
a monarch’s way for tin sheds
and lost caravans
metal spindle of a tall tower
I can see out for miles though high up I feel I should
road curves – round
trees again
and endless moss stumps
moss fingers – puffed out branches
with heavy tinsel
green green green
It’s time to go home.
walkdrinkwrite 