The poetry of the forest
Rains solace on the lonely
Their skins have grown thick, though
They barely feel it
Each individual leaf
The pooling waters & streams
(if you’re lucky)
They speak in many voices
Many tongues
Many identities
The poetry of the forest
Rains solace on the lonely
Their skins have grown thick, though
They barely feel it
Each individual leaf
The pooling waters & streams
(if you’re lucky)
They speak in many voices
Many tongues
Many identities