Saturday, January 11, 2014

In The Black Woods

There are dreams. In the Black woods
The berries glisten like light shimmering
It beckons- to hold them- like us-

It is here- with the white owl who takes
Flight through us- As the hunter stirs
The dark wooden floors- with his silence

Searching the black glimmers in the trees
For signs- movements-  that other light-
In the Black woods, there we dream....