IN SUMMER
 

These days
in summer

I tread
gingerly
on the leafy
ground

I do not
touch
the intricate
roughness
of the trunks

or rest
for too long
amongst the orange
yellow
shafts of light

I wonder
not quite hearing
the rustling, the buzzing
the chirping

my skin
almost asleep
to the whistling
playful
wind

these days
fear holds
my hand
In the woods.

 

    in summer                click play button for streaming audio