Friday, December 21, 2007

The Silence Of The Fog

A quiet has descended on the forest.
The trees have gone silent.
Blinded by a slow shroud of mist
They can't see to speak.














In a dying Hemlock forest
Not even the groans of decaying limbs are heard.
The winged denizens
Speak for the forest now.
In a multitude of voices.














Always silent lichens
Drink up this thick shroud.














The world turns into blurred lines
In the silence.














The silence of the fog.

4 comments:

chuck b. said...

Okay, spooky. Not really festive. What's next? A murder? The Headless Horseman galloping out of the woods?

Christopher C. NC said...

You're a brave man Chuck B.

Blackswamp_Girl said...

Lovely, Christopher... and haunting at the same time. :) Merry Christmas to you.

lisa said...

Nice prose...goes along with the "Deliverance" scene down by the creek...cool.