The still air, motionless without wind,
Mosquitoes buzzing around my head,
The slight rustle of people's footsteps,
& the quiet chirp of a songbird.
Dry beech leaves cover the forest floor,
A thick canopy of trees partially blocks out the sun,
Creating dancing sunlight across the roots, rocks & brambles.
I sigh, tired after a long night of sleeping in a tent.
A decaying log shifts under the weight of my foot,
Its deep, dark brown insides are a hotel for insects & moss.
The stump of the fallen tree sits lonely
At the edge of the rotting carcass.
Mosquitoes buzzing around my head,
The slight rustle of people's footsteps,
& the quiet chirp of a songbird.
Dry beech leaves cover the forest floor,
A thick canopy of trees partially blocks out the sun,
Creating dancing sunlight across the roots, rocks & brambles.
I sigh, tired after a long night of sleeping in a tent.
A decaying log shifts under the weight of my foot,
Its deep, dark brown insides are a hotel for insects & moss.
The stump of the fallen tree sits lonely
At the edge of the rotting carcass.
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