The Dreaming Forest

And the waking now,

to long dreams, 

of days by the creek,

great stones,

washed clean,

water running over exposed roots,

giant trees still holding on,

the clearing,

where I fashioned a hut,

and where I lay,

watching a family of white mice,

the hut,

becoming their home.

 

The creek world,

where I believed,

totally and wholly,

that I belonged,

to the dreaming forest.

DSC_0150Photo: Leigh Pumilia

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