For the trees

Mine are the only footsteps I hear
Around me,
Pebbles wedged in the mud
A perfect bed for Autumn leaves
Leaves that crunch, turning to crispy powder
When walked over.

 I stop.
And hear nothing but
My hoarse breath catching.
Green moss covers the trunks
Of these tall trees
A sky of green hanging over my head.

 Snap. A dead leaf floats,
Swinging down
To join the brown bed below.
Tree branches touch
Linking arms of forest green

Sweet air.
Cold evening breeze.
They're whispering.
Sharing secrets. Sharing stories













But not for my ears.
So I leave my resting place
Of brown and green.
I leave for the trees.