Full of fog-deadened
air the forest
so still that a breath
is all that stirs,
no birds,
and I almost feel guilt
for taking one in,
so rare is the air here,
so alien the sky,
so unworldly
this morning
among the immediacy
of trunks: pine,
fir, pine, fir, fir,
pine, cedar–
I’ve only come
to set my emptiness
in a greater stretch of it,
to sit a bit somewhere
where silence is still
the rule, and yet
I’m still
the exception
even here
these lungs
and heart the tell
OPTIONAL POETRY 
Outstanding in it’s gorgeous entirety, one part of this in particular caught my focus: “… and I almost feel guilt/for taking one in…” 🙂
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thanks!
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“… To set my emptiness in a greater stretch of it… Yet I’m still the exception… Even here… These lungs and heart the tell.”
Beautiful… Absolutely and utterly beautiful. The still forest emerges vividly out of the mist created by the sounds of your words.
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Thank you, Yusra!
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This one speaks my language. 🙂 Thank you, as always, for sharing.
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and thanks for reading! 🙂
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Beautifully written!
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Thanks!
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Thank you-
Reading your words captured my attention and transported me to the nature that like you, I love. It’s just WAY too cold this moment to get out there yet. I am waiting for the temps to move possibly over 10!
In kind from a kindred spirit in the very cold North East!
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It’s so crazy that you are getting all that snow while the North West basically has turned into California! There’s barely even snow in the mountains here, it’s our most non-winter yet…
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