Ancient Woods

Thick strands of moss hang

They keep the foggy morning

Rising Sun prys at the woods

Critters scurry about in peace

Gentle leaves rustle beneath feet 

Small feet making noise

Searching ever searching

Birds dart from branch to tree

Calls go out and return

Faces turn and look away

Hooves glide across leaves

Barely a sound to tell

The woods have heard many

Their echoes held in place

Their times long forgotten 

Ancient woods know day and night 

Little changes over long years

Another season comes to end

The leaves drift downward

Life moves on to another day

The fog slowly gives way

Pillars of light illuminate the woods

<a href="">Ancient</a>


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