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Through the Forest

by Kathleen Wilson

red 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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