Forests
Take the tree and split it apart, There is the river That comes in gushes, And cuts the world Where it starts, In the morning madness, In the low Of dropping eyes That speak in parts - Some of sadness, Some of anger, Eyes that trigger The haze to stay longer, Only as long as they live The stars that speak In hushed tones endlessly Into the inked night And there goes my voice In the middle of valleys That won't settle for anything But the beaver singing Through forests I have lost, Forests I have lost forever. (Image - Annie Spratt, found on Unsplash)
