I am the forest
I am the moss
I feel the frost
On my face
And the chill
Of my limbs

I feel my vines
Drag along
Ivy strands
And small twigs
In the winds
Where I walk

I am the forest
Shaded in shadow
I am the canopy
Scarf of greens
Breathing steady

I am still
Silent in watching
Cartographer to land
This land that is mine
I am the moss
Hidden in the mist

I radiate warm
Under bark and leaf
Though my roots
Are damp and
Breaths barely visible
I am a furnace

I am the forest
Though you didn’t notice
Since I’ll see you
Before you see me
Shaded as surface
Hidden in anything

I stick to trees
Laying on the floor
With the dirt and what’s shed
Come dusk to the woods
When the cold becomes bitter
I am nothing but leaf litter

I am the moss
That grows
On the trees
It is the air
That you breathe
That reeks of me

Of bogs and dank thickets
Vapor from my lungs
Is the fog low-lying
Close to the soil and rock
Passing through branches
That hovers over streams

I feel the cold
That reaches through
My epidermis
And past my coat of wood
I am heat in the dark
Nesting in dew of dawn

Verdant and olive
Drab yellow with pollen
And evergreen in autumn
I live and thrive
Verdant, I survive
And persist in solace

I am the forest
But I am concealed
I so wish
To be

Published by Jake Thomas Shaw

Concerned with memory, currency, and destiny, I strive to capture each one as they happen. Join me and consume reality! Radio Reality. City!

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