Into the Woods

I imagine a house in the woods.
Down a narrow road with green growing up both sides.
Infinite leaves and bark overhead and underfoot.
Fog and four-legged creatures scampering about.
I imagine a house made of glass.
Crystal clear views in stereo surround.
On display for the no one who can look in.
And living in that house I could walk into the wood 
And scream.
It would be nice to feel so heard.



Somber and grey, the fog hovers;

At home in the valley’s bed yet

Out in the world alone.

The blue eyed wallflower is

More than a little socially awkward;

She stands around, pushing herself

In amongst the gregarious group;

The stalwart hills, amenable trees,

And gossipy brooks,

But never quite feels like part of the scene.