Memories of the Forest

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Green leaves, turtles in the pond sticking their heads

just above the water, and an owl at sunset objecting

to my feet walking, a stick snapping, stepping

over a tree down, and yet

I wonder if the forest will remember

how warm the summer felt, and autumn

bursting, and the beautiful

rain, washing us.

       

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

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