The Woods

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
a brief fantasy about my experiences hiking and camping

Submitted: September 07, 2016

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Submitted: September 07, 2016

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Bright rays shining, hanging low
dancing with the shadows of oaks
each pair swaying, swinging, bow
And upon my crest I see nothing
only the pale sun's rays

the mist hangs low,
each valley an abyss
magic mingles mystery
time moves, stationary
motionless, yet ever swaying

the dancers never break rhythm
swaying with every breath
no interludes, light and nimble
weightless, lithe
how I envy their energy

Many miles crossed
many hills crested
Streams crossed
I'm dirty
I'm clean

Rays pass low
each crest an island
each ravine a mariana
the earth falls away
Suspended in the heavens


© Copyright 2017 Elzie Randolph. All rights reserved.

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