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Rowan S Jan 23
The mist filled gaps
Of my mind
Leave small open doors
To
Leave
Through
Count down slowly
      And slip
              Away
The deer trail is more still than quiet
Scents becoming louder than vision
Eyes close in deep temple breath

There is no more beautiful rain
     than forest mist
Sprigs of fog that are at once
     barely seen barely felt
Bundled moss like hyssop soaked
     in holy
     flicked with urgent intent
     soft wet sprays make clothes
     my nakedness
A baptism that fills my lungs
     with the spirit I belong
> May The Forest be with You.
> As published in Dark Horse Appalachia
> As published in The Indiana Gazette
> Listen to me recite Forest Spirit at
             DarkHorse7 on Bandcamp
Dani Dec 2018
Mist lay before you covering lands
Careful steps now, feel around with hands
Nothing seen but what's at your feet
Go slow and steady, for mist carries deceit
Don’t be fooled
let your curiosity be cooled
One step at a time do not look ahead
Or underground will be your newfound bed
Don’t try to clear the mist with magic tricks
What lies before you is set in stone not sticks
Cannot be changed or foreseen or broken
Just walk the path at your feet one step for a token
Reward for staring down, focused on where you step
Reward for moving forward, without a tricky attempt
Present is your only state
Mind it carefully for a clean slate
future, past, present
Pagan Paul Nov 2018
.
The Moon doesn't love me anymore,
she may even have forgotten I exist.
Just a phantom roaming the Earth,
a mere trick of an eye in the mist.




© Pagan Paul (29/11/18)
.
Alek Mielnikow Nov 2018
A mist blanketed the forest,
so low and dense we could barely see
through it, but we kept on digging
the hole. We had no other choice,
and there was nowhere else to go.

The onyx lake pebbly beach
intimate boat cheap beer
and jokes loud motor running

The smell of earth and petrichor
dispersed her rancid miasma.
I felt ruefully relieved, but
the hole was almost complete.
Tiny eyes peered at us through
the dark, through the leaves,
from the trees, but not a chirp
or tweet was aired. They remained
silent as we did our deed.

The wet street we came in on
truck cabin nail gun hidden
in the cooler her stupidly
wonderful laugh
awful moonlight

It was finished. We climbed out,
and I grasped her ankles. We
swung her and let go. The wind
passed through with a low groan.

Burble gracious grin
looking up at the stars
snap yelp the start of a cry
another snap of air escaping
swollen tongue
widened eyes

The putrid miasma disappeared,
buried along with everything
else. And then we left. The sun
crept out from behind the
mountains as we walked away.
The birds began their daily dance.
Onyx
[on-iks, oh-niks]
noun
1. Mineralogy . a variety of chalcedony having straight parallel bands of alternating colors.
2. black, especially a pure or jet black.
*I use it to refer to the color of onyx, which is white/silver and jet black*

Petrichor
[pe-trahy-kawr, ‐ker]
noun
1. a distinctive scent, usually described as earthy, pleasant, or sweet, produced by rainfall on very dry ground.

Miasma
[mahy-az-muh, mee-]
Noun
1. noxious exhalations from putrescent organic matter; poisonous effluvia or germs polluting the atmosphere.
2. a dangerous, foreboding, or deathlike influence or atmosphere.

Burble
[bur-buh l]
verb (used without object)
1. to make a bubbling sound; bubble.
2. a bubbling or gentle flow.
Celeste Briefs Nov 2018
the sky has fallen
I stand here alone
white mist conceals
my tear-stained face
it wasn't fair
but I have lost
this battle beneath my skin

the stars have faded
the moon is gone
am I really alone?
no flames have marred me
no scars shine through
but I have been burned
by the untamed truth

untethered shadow
follows me
stays close to keep warm
but I am
just as cold
as if I had
no body to contain me
no soul to call my own

how have we fallen
I can't recall
but we are all alone
within this mist
a blinding light
fed by unshed tears
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