Tom Wood

Misty Woods

 

Mist envelopes

What looked like woods

Dew rolls off

A green, leafy-hood

 

I know these woods

Like nobody else

They remind me

Of the story it tells

 

Of mist rolling in

Of the dew rolling off

Of the breeze running through

A luminescent drop-off

 

A quick top-view

Of the past, present, future

Doesn’t it speak to you

The cold, wispy rumor?

 

Mist envelopes

What used to be person

Enchanted woods

Don’t make this worsen

Give us reasoning, ancient good

 

Dew puddles up

The clouds on us do spit

As we search for your soul

It’s taken you, hasn’t it?