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)