Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2013
Nobody knows why,
          on the quietest of days,
          we decided to walk into the forest.
But the wind wasn't blowing,
          And the rain wasn't falling,
          And the castle was silent as stone.

With knives in our hands,
          And room in our baskets,
          We looked toward the ground with tenuous step.
Searching in brambles,
          Though we hadn't much practice,
          Looking for life where dead things had fell.

There wasn't much on the ground that day,
But the dog's playing fetch and the baby is laughing.
Just climb up the hill and we'll find our way back;
Whatever you are looking for is just on the other side.

Soon we are wandering,
          Without saying a word.
          You don't know where we are, and neither do I.
It takes getting lost
          To know what it feels like
          For the crunching of leaves to remind you of home.

We hadn't been here before,
          But it all looks the same now.
          The trees are still green and their bark is still brown.
We couldn't quite see him
          For all of the trees here,
          But we followed the sound of the baby's cries.

There wasn't much on the ground that day,
But the dog's playing fetch and the baby is laughing.
Just climb up the hill and we'll find our way back;
Whatever you are looking for is just on the other side.

I don't know what we've found here,
          But my basket is heavy.
          I think that it's time that we start heading home.
The path doesn't fork here,
          You just make a new one.
          Just follow the sound of the baby's cries.
Written by
Allison Rose
452
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems