I like to go for walks, and while I know people are afraid of the woods and trees and whatnot (???), I am not and have never been. I love the woods, even in the dark, even in storms. The woods are familiar and comfortable and safe to me.

That said, the wood does have dangers. Just like cities and small towns and outer space.

Humans are fragile. Gotta take care of yourself, right?

I wrote this poem about the branches of trees stretching out without leaves, the sound of the wind, the feeling that something could be there—you just can’t see it.

Happy October!

The Fog

Who knows what hides in the fog?
Maybe nothing.
But the naked arms of a tree
reaching out to touch
your golden curls.
Maybe nothing.
But a warm breath
on the back of your neck
from a friendly breeze.
Maybe nothing.
But the eerie whining
of the wind
through a rocky crevice.

Maybe nothing…