Winter Woods

Winter Woods

White mist drifts
through rain-wet pines.

Walking through the forest
feels like a waking dream.

Rubber soles against dark earth,
plastered with shed leaves.

Looking up, the sky is no-color.
A counsel of cedars surrounds me.

The further the trees, the more suffused in mist,
until the world becomes a sea of clouds.

In the cool, blue air of dusk,

I become silenceβ€”

the sound of trees breathing.

10 thoughts on “Winter Woods

    1. So thrilled the poem effectively drew you into its world, Robert! πŸ™‚ Thank you for telling me. πŸ™‚


    1. Thank you! πŸ™‚ The counsel, I’m sure, would love to spill their rich & fragrant secrets with you! Thrilled I could evoke a portion of their ancient magic. Thanks for letting me know! πŸ˜€


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