Long did I linger midst
the dark, damp forest of despair
unaware if the sun was shining above.
The dense foliage forming
a canopy overhead covering
the sky with outstretched
moss-draped arms
fingers reaching out
as if to envelope me.
The ground underfoot strewn
with molded pine cones.
The oppresive surroundings
leaving a bitter taste on the tongue.
Thick air resonating with sounds
of loons in a faraway pond.
Longing for home I make my way back
arriving to find a lavender tulip
blooming in the sun
three narcissus by the front porch
and in the mail... a letter from you.

© Marcia Miller-Twiford