The forest was lonely

The forest was lonely at Jesse's today while I stood under the sky of gray I don't know why I stood in that cold, naked wood in the not-quite-cold of the season I can't tell you the reason why I go out alone as the air hung still and dead as a stone A lone chirping bird was all to be heard till a shot rang out in the distance I imagined that shot was intended for me that I was the prey and that I should flee but still, I just stood in that cold, naked wood while the water stood sluggish beside me And the rusted old pipe on that road not taken that runs to the creek looked sad and forsaken no water ran through it and sadly, it knew it was lying there uselessly dying But then I turned back and I looked up the road at the barn and the house and a warm window shone with the sluggish creek water reflecting it clearly like some work by Kincaid or just very nearly some hope was displayed as I stood in the shade and the sleeping trees started to totter Mark Burton Sunday, November 28th, 2005, 11:50 P.M.