Nothing Moves

when the leaves have fallen
you get that certain leaf crunch
as you walk

but this forest is wet
and silent

the mist dragons twine and twist
on and around the oak and poplar trunks
and i really should be headed home
to warm light and food

but i am here
suddenly alone in this moment
suddenly as quiet as this boreal forest

nothing moves

Published by

Chyfrin the Celtic poet

Artist, Poet, Electrical/Biomedical Engineer, Actor, Playwright, Set construction, Educator, Lover of womankind and single malt scotch

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