A hidden path, weaves into the woods
dividing along curves, serpent-like
warping and contorting life.

The wind shoots,
bouncing along the boundaries,
whipping and bending limbs.

The wild chirps,
broken growls and crunching
creeps into narrow edges.

The light fades,
seeping into the cracks
as it dips down under the canopy.

The ground is worn
with persistent life,
flattened and tired.

A known path, cuts into the woods,
bleeding along turns, serpent-like
warping and contorting life.

The wind swirls,
carrying decaying air
piling and packing into corners.

The wild whimpers,
unheard and tampered,
drowned out and forgotten.

The light drops,
reflecting and jumping,
lowering under the frames.

The ground is new,
but known, covering
and layering tried life.