The Breath of the TreesA Poem by NormaZI’m not sure where this poem came from, it started as something totally different, but went down its on path.
The leafless oak trees appear ghostlike
in the fog They stand at the edge of the forest, their ancient trunks gnarled and scarred, their roots burrowed deep underground. Twigs, like neurons, stretch toward the sky sending their silent signals out to one another. I stretch my body out on the spongy mossy ground, breathing in the sweet smell of pine and earthy decaying leaves. I can hear them talking They are mourning their brothers and sisters, the spruce, pine, birch, cedar, maple, lost to Fire that came so fast, a tsunami of red, yellow, white flames, consuming them all. The smoke was heavy, blotting out the sun, for days. They can still taste the ash that swirled around them, like a shroud. They begin to weep. Their tears fall on my face, and then I realize I am crying too. © 2024 NormaZReviews
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4 Reviews Added on January 29, 2024 Last Updated on January 29, 2024 Author
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