Tongass

Man would be hard pressed
To find a haven more exquisite
Than the Southeast Alaskan forest.
Forest so old and emerald
So vast and dense,
Praise flows abundant
From Man to Beast and back again.
Again my heart it aches
For Tongass moss.
Moss lines stone, bark, dirt
And all crevasses unseen.
Unseen, still, are all
The secrets of the forest.

Muddled skies sob over velvet trees
No one to witness, to care
About the failing breath
Of a raven.
An Eagle perches above the scene
And shits a stain while tourists cluck
And capture pixelated memories.
In the infinite moss
Among the trees of Tongass
Ends the life of a raven.