Mellow moon glow washes against the heavy pine canopy
And retreats
Leaving the trail below in a lonely slumber
Pre-dawn blackness folds thick around me
Muffling the thrumming frogs in the unseen creek
Returning soft and wild shuffles from my own footfalls
My unseeing eyes want to panic
Painting danger on the void
But cool even breaths of morning air carry the pace
And I wind like the wind in the dark
-T. Weeks
(A response to “The Torch”)
Life Immense 