in the darkened wood

in the darkened wood Rosalie Wessel oh dear forest, hunchbacked and warty, bellowing up to meet mother sky. sprouting its trees like combative limbs, lashing outwards to gore drifting clouds. feet thump in patterns, they march like ants through obedient trails, kept alive by eager hikers. weeds scratch against the underside of gritty tarmac, lain to ease pung lumber trucks tackling the growth. they wheedle in high voices to be let out, to bloom where they shan’t be torn away. […] Continue Reading