Walking The Woods #236 *29 December 2015

“Age gives us life’s October skies And old October’s mellower days, A better time a thousand ways.” -Douglas Malloch | GarettPhotography

Crossing A Calm River

He took my heart as I gave it to him those sum of years ago that seem to be fading in the back of our

minds. I see him from the edge of this bank, but I cannot say the same for him. What does he think about?

I could cross this old river, this warm body that invites me in, beckoning periodically with its

hand stretched out, palms to the sky above and fingers twirling. But will I be the one to break

the still surface of the water? If it were I to take the daring plunge, I fear that the consequential ripples to be

sent through our firmament would be too great, too high to hurdle and perhaps too powerful to face head-on and break

through. I can put my foot in the water, but even then it sends waves that shake and almost tip toads off of their delicate lily pads.

Perhaps it is best that I remain high and dry, and perhaps by staying out of this calm and

stagnant water, I could perhaps avoid the parasitic insects that plague its surface, working

in tandem with the venomous hand of the river that both entices and seeks to drown me.

Herbst by Noirerora

okay alright

by Mat Miller

What use is moonlight? I reach into it, fingers open, and my hand is silvered and blessed, and comes back to me holding nothing.

Margaret Atwood, from “Sumacs,” in Interlunar (via a-pair-of-ragged-claws)

gets an adrenaline rush from contributing to class discussion

same.