Subsume yourself
into the pale
green of the lichen
& the brighter green
making up a patchwork
a coverlet of mosses
Allow the spores
to encroach
Every day in the woods
is a million years
many trillions of drop-
lets quivering
against the curved
desire of the meniscus
You’re right on the edge
about to fall
9
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Every day in the woods
is a million years
You’re right on the edge
about to fall
[this this this this this this this this this forever !!]
I want a moss coverlet. or just to walk out into the woods… without plans to walk out
Holy Moly this poem! Very grabbing!