Walkabout in the Land of Fallen Trees

And we passed the place
where we weren’t supposed to go

A hidden corner
on a rare chilly morn

Crunching of foot upon acorn husks
and withered needles of pine

She kicked sawdust
on me unknowingly

And he could neither
be still nor quiet

A spiderweb clinging
to the last branch outstretched

The hawk gliding high above
keeping a close eye

This is where we found
the dying babes of the forest

The wind tumbling them
to their last breaths

But this is where we sang an old song
I did not know you knew

And held hands distended
in our wooden circle

in the land of the fallen trees.

fallen trees


Filed under Sunday Night Sonnet

7 responses to “Walkabout in the Land of Fallen Trees

  1. Jimmy

    Good one Jen!!!

  2. ron

    that was nice.glad u r back to writing.i miss your blogs

  3. Debra Marrs

    Great one, Jenifer. I was right there with you, remembering those memories. It’s so good to see you back in the writer’s seat again. I look forward to more. AND we need to catch up, sister! xoxox

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