Sep 13
poem 0 comments challenge: Clearing

Secret world

I look back through the trees
at the world I love so dearly 
that I may never see again
inhaling through my nose 
I embrace the smell of the woods
loamy and rich 
the smell of living things 
and something else
something . . .
my true home
I whisper, trailing my fingers over the messy letters carved into our tree
and before you wake up I leave 
only a note and my mudd caked sneakers are left 
soon enough you'll find them 
but by that time I'll be far away
somwhere I can't hurt either of us
somewhere deep in a world your not ready to find 
your not ready to know about