The Walk
By Zez
I stroll through the forest, A breath of cool crisp air. I hear the birds sing, Sweet sound of peace. I feel the sun beaming, Warmpth holds to my cloths. I smell scent of pine, Feel sheltered and home. I see squirrels dance, Tails flick with life. And I feel the breeze blow, Hear it whisp in the trees. And I see the sun set, It's glory and might. And I watch the birds go, With haste and with spite. And I feel the air thicken, With it's wet spindly grasp. And I smell the wet leaves, As they rot under foot. And I see on the hill, From it's cold dark place, The face of denial Of Hate And of pain. Moon's cold bite Sharp teeth Sticky Wet Pain. Now I run, To catch the sun, and smell the pine, and hear the birds, and see squirrels, and feel the warmpth. Written April 26th, 2000 © on Feb 27 2002 12:15 AM PST, mike 0 • 1
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"I stroll through the forest,..."