Through the trees
Below their leaves
I scurry through the roots
Filtering my way through the wild garlic shoots
Feathers ruffled in the dead of night
With a keen eye you'll catch an exotic sight
Along the stream I slither my way
I do not stop not even to play
When the light filters through
I consider it my doom
Hiding under a forest chicken shroom
Waiting for the darkness to renew
YOU ARE READING
My Poems
PoetryMy poem app went to hell so I'm posting all my works here from now on. They are a mix of types and a lot are sad.
