Enchanted Forest

Enchanted Forest

Sunlight looks green,

slanting through limbs
wrapped like mummies
in green moss-rags.

No sound, no sound

but the raven calling
. . . somewhere.

Small squirrel

walks up a tree,
pauses on the first limb,
takes a good look,
listens . . .

The forest is listening,

breathing,
watching.

Is it talking?

I don’t know the words.

 

Used with permission.  From Wild Country by David L. Harrison, ©1999, Wordsong Boyds Mill Press Inc., A Highlights Company, 815 Church Street, Honesdale, PS 18431, www.davidlharrison.com