Quiet in the Forests of Night

quiet in the forests of night
watching with white eyes
alone in the darkness
waiting for the one
 
the pond was torn
in ripples that marked the shore
silent as the woods around it—
and the creak of the toads
 
it was day
the wings yielded movement
in the trees that came alive
and left us behind
 
flames once wore on us
every night as we walked home—
alone now they’ve withered
with memories made along the road
 
round and round
on winter grass we’re frozen

Subscribe to RSS - fantasy poetry