Beneath my feet pine straw yields, a scent so fresh and clean. The day both crisp and sunlit as we hike this forest scene   From walls of granite boulders woodland creatures hide and peep keeping close watch o’er their realm high within their castle…

someone tossed the towel in the quiet of the forest morning if a tree gives up in a forest while no one is watching does it make a sound? does it even fall? or will pride glue its branches to the sky standing vindictevely though…

Forest Ranger – Poem 11     The Forest Ranger sees through the painting On the wooden floor of the patio fainting Music denotes his heart beat as he listens Headphones a sign of his glisten   On the wooden floor of the patio fainting…

There, right there on the living room floor lays the last of an old growth forest.   Hemlock, military- tight straight grain that never again will smell the rain, the hungry draped mosses, the first sun of summer solstice.   Even horizontal with death, this…

a forest painted on a glazed china cup is no less lifeless than a forest choked by auto exhaust. prompt 20

Here, shadow and light Revealed in my heart’s forest Now, breeze through the trees