Walking woodland

when you didnít know
about the foxes,
about the burrows
she knows
her dreams are afterglows
came to wonder in woes
she let herself show
washed in stillwater , ran to shore

with whiskers that whispered
among the ivory towers you kept her hid
and she knows, she knows
of the moon, the stars

and i donít know where life goes
when lids remain closed
when the comfort gives
when the tales reminisce
light forged †with his feathery fist

marielle 10-2015
Written by mariellewrites
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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