#poetry : into the woods

Into the woods
migrant clouds throb over a pink horizon
swirling in the sky like a finger
through hot breath
on the window
the path wears blinkers of trees,
armies of pine on either side
oxygen floods into my lungs
so cold it burns
for a moment,
I stand,
a cockroach by a green giant’s foot
the only way is forward
-don’t look back-
a branch shrugs off birds
the path is a river, and thoughts
the only oars left to paddle with
snow swallows the footsteps of those gone past
               -forward is the only way-
though we all know
how it ends.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s