Through the Forest by Kathleen Wilsonred forest's door is tall and narrow
creaks of oldest tree crackle of deep
ages of leaves still wine red sweep wide
in opening rush of pine and sage
two of us slip sideways pillowed
associations weave
all ages of sunset sleep
we wake it with our feet
orb of day slips into bedded rose
night is red as sleep it watches intent
collect dropped pearl
full moons from forest floor and dig
buried star flowers sip silver nectar
blush to wakefulness
03/16/2009 Author's Note: Poets on Site on the Art of Cindy Rinne
Posted on 03/17/2009 Copyright © 2024 Kathleen Wilson
Member Comments on this Poem |
Posted by Laurie Blum on 03/17/09 at 03:03 PM Wow! The line breaks work so perfectly with these words that each stanza is like a light breeze caressing my thoughts. As beautiful as it's author. |
Posted by George Hoerner on 03/17/09 at 04:34 PM Nice images in a nice dream. |
Posted by Jo Halliday on 05/10/09 at 02:32 AM oh it's so beautiful and everything, the words chosen, the breaks, really makes me feel this. thankyou |
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