Poem_Mark Parker

A walk through the misty wood.
The trail latent with track of hooves,
which tell me the ways the forest moves,
into the endless green hood.

I would step to dance upon these tracks,
but the sound is what holds me back.
I shouldn’t disturb the animals around,
or step on the forests leafy gown.

The powerful sounds of the forest,
not meant for a tape to be repeated
because the pure sound is sweet to my ear,
and to my heart, it will always be near.

By Mark Parker