On an evening in late November,
the woods surrounding me lead on.
Though twisted, the path is familiar.
I spot a white flare among the trees
and realize I’ve startled a fawn.
The sight carries me deeper inside
the mystery of the woods I traverse —
how the sounds are hardly evident,
and if my mind was on something else,
I’d easily miss this universe.
There’s a kingdom amid the branches
of flickering wings and delicate calls.
If only I could ascend and stay,
draped in leaves the color of velvet,
deep wine-red the loveliest of all.
The longer I remain, the lower the sun sets.
Ringed by a fiery twilight,
the colors imprint on my mind.
Brightest orange, peach, and lavender,
their language the sound of my heart’s flight.