forestwalk

After the first turn,
twigsnap and leafstep
take the place of footfall.
Lichen adorns rock;
moss ornaments tree.
Insects linger, like
alate motes of dust,
in beams of late sun.
Everywhere there is a
special shadow that
speaks of a different
time and place.
While the wind
allows the leaves to dance,
unseen birds—
chickadee, cardinal—
signal each other from
skyward positions.
The air delivers the
odor of decay, but it
is the lively odor of
matter’s rich renewal.
Just before returning,
a single prop airplane
hums over the treetops
to remind you the city
was never far away.

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