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hardwood memorieswell-rooted, time-tested, safe~ hiking in mind's woods......Mark Toney © 2021.5/15/2021 - Poetry form: Haiku (for you)
Woods, leading no where.  Beauty in the field, destroyed by weeds.  Circles and circles, round and around.    I keep tracking through these woods.  Feeling lost inside my soul.  Where am I? 
His hands are calloused and torn, browned by the sun as always but now they are stained red with blood   Silent, he grips the butt of his rifle with one hand and a dirty cloth with the other  
Walking through the talking woods, looking at the reflecting water, I see a bag of old goods and empty bottles underwater.  
I’ve been lost, wandering around in the dark Silently begging for someone to come Find me. To lead me out of the dark woods Shine a light to show me the path out With a strong hand to keep me from stumbling.
Silence Among Others By: Tom   I rarely speak too loudly For I am as quiet as the breeze I move among the forest Speaking only through the trees   The leaves help tell my story
He never gets tired of taking a deep breath And sinking in that warm spring air Smelling of morning dew and newly fallen rain.  
He dreams of yellow eyes  Watching him in the night Surrounded by darkness.   He cannot shoo them away Or bribe them with food 
The flowers grow But I could care less.   The birds are chirping again. But their sound is not music to my ears.  
Roaring above the blooming trees yells at the animals around him.   He hasn’t heard this sound before, And he’s second guessing every step forward
I am not lonely. I am not lonely. I am not lonely. I am not lonely! I am not lonely.   I AM NOT LONELY.  
Where do you go when you want to be alone? There are a thousand places in the world i call home.  Some I have only been to in my mind. Others are high rocks reached after a climb.
I saunter throughthe vibrant copseto absorbI becomeverdantI ama treeplantedby the rivers ofliving waters. .
At an unknown hour the daylight inches timidly through branches like bars set too high. The chill of October has settled here, where shadows dictate and instinct inflates.
I saw him go into the woods His white skull lacking hair His feet dragging on, Almost in despair   I followed him, Quick as I could I hid, As best as I would  
With want I watch the hunter and his dear. His delight; unfaltering, does not cease. A mere goodbye; you help me in my fleece- Out to the woods, to the cold morning’s air.  
olive green and rust brown mix light streams through the leaves and catches motes betwixt lines of sun, and displays them against the bark rough and diamond-shaped of the forest, and the song of a lark  
Poetry was my escape It helped me get to second base For the dreams that I have chased Now my dreams and reality are face to face
Golden air of mountain,The Trees glow with the sunset light,They sing their own goodnights. Though not a last goodbye,From stream to mountain they sign on high,In air, their children fly. And the moon’s sweet whiteness,Will struggle with the sunse
Wandering in a wood of shelves and books, Over litter, leaves fallen and gone From branches of minds the winds of time shook, For one page that remains empty as dawn, A sheet virgin white upon which to write
Let’s bury ourselves beneath the snow, Hidden away where no one knows Let’s freeze ourselves within the ice,
Before words, Poetry was what I saw,                 Outside my window.   Swallows swooping from,                 Spittle-caked nests. Bobcats bounding among,
What would you say To us alone in the woods? Not simply to fuck Rather instead alone to pretend That we Are alone in the world Together we Can find a rock in the stream
The leaves fell the same time as I, Fell in love with them and all that surrounded them as they marked the onset of a colorless winter.
Stepping over that imaginary line between Suburbia And Darkness The woods are going to eat you up
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