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Forest Angel
January 15, 2016
Dressed in pink and white,
She walks,
Old leather backpack in
Its customary place,
All messy blond hair and
Frills.
The trails that her
Worn black shoes follow,
Dusty and narrow,
Wind through the forest,
Green.
Sunlight streams through
The canopy, golden,
Showing glowing leaf veins and
Peeping around trunks and
Making living things of shadow and
Light.
She stands still on
A bridge, so
Still.
In a pool of sunlight,
White gold, a
Small figure,
Delicate.
She is an angel of
The trees and roots,
My forest
Angel.
© Bhuvaneswari R., Sleepy Hollow, NY
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