Tuesday, July 08, 2008

The forest

Under the rustling ferns and bushes
Lies green moss, dripping with winter dew.
Woody roots dig silently below, concealing their strength
With seasons of autumn leaves that keep their secret.
Happy earthworms devour the mulch of browns and greys
In which the mushrooms grow.
If you listen carefully, you might hear the earthworms eating.
Beneath them lies the soil of ages past,
Dark and still, visited only by the roots of tallest trees.
The soil knows nothing of the chirping forest above,
That leaf by leaf it fed.
Down there, amid the rocks and clay, forgotten,
      lies who I used to be.

1 comment:

Christina said...

I love the phrase "happy earthworms". You can just imagine them cheerily greeting each other on the way to the mulch pile in the morning and joyfully digesting and squeezing out dirt. It's such a happy, explorative poem...

...right up until the last line which can only be described as an emo sledgehammer. I like your work :)