I stand at the groomed
entrance to my forest.
I hold my fists
in the pockets
of my gray wind jacket,
mindlessly staring
into the darkening trees.

I notice the inky bog
that arrived with
the recent storms.
I begin to count
the black, tangled
branches and vines
that increase as my
eyes wander
amongst them.

Suddenly I am filled
with despair as I
come to the understanding:
*the deeper I look,
the darker
and more twisted
things become.