Walking Through Ancient Woods at Dawn

J
As walking through the clouded trees
The mist like cloak upon the wood
With breeze on air that makes me pleased
The whisper of a spoken good
The blackened bird does watch each step
Calling forth the murder many
In footfall silence is not kept
Counting all like every penny
Ancient bark through nose is told
The story gone yet present so
Peace unfold and deer so bold
The hanging fog in heavens low
The freshness of the morning sun
All old thought now thus undone

Published by J

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