Notes From The Woods

The beautiful broken maple In the woods

The creek in the woods is so low I can easily step over it
The waterfall is a trickle
The pool at the root ball of the fallen hickory is narrow and green with slime
The creek coming down the hill is rock dry.

A five petaled pink flower with the leaf of a fern dots the thin grasses that bow and swell like ocean waves.

Dirt yellow pollen
dusts every leaf and
blade of grass,
it settles in the veins
making their patterns more prominent

It catches in spiderwebs like golden thread.

Small moths the color of last years leaves flutter up from the ground around me as I walk.  Like snow falling up
instead of down.

Tiny insects swarm under the brim of my hat, they get caught in my nostrils as I breathe them in.

A mosquito lands on my ring finger and I brush away her invitation.

Fate in the pool of the fallen hickory

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Full Moon Fiber Art