All posts tagged: forest

7 hours of light

This is my country. It’s grey, it’s cold, it’s waiting. Waiting for the snow to bury the stripped landscape in a pure white blanket. The fields like a lover’s stubble, trees like needles pointed at the heavy sky. Everything is quiet. And then: Footsteps, cracking branches and a few carefully selected words.

Last night

Last night I couldn’t find you in the forest. It was misty and I’d forgotten my compass under my night table. The trees were whispering in their sleep and I tried to walk gently on their winding roots. There were strange boats by the lake and voices of creatures from faraway lands echoed across the water; songs in languages unknown to me, and laughter. As the rain begun to drop on the leaves above me, I wished your bed was dry and warm and through your dream you’d hear this song. On my way I found blueberries and carried them home in the hem of my dress, so that tomorrow we could kiss with sweet purple lips.