into these woods I go

into these woods I go poem by steven james humphreys

there again I must sleep

to a trip into these woods

a promise I will keep

the new snow is deep

it is evening

and I have lost my way

while the moon laughs at me

I ask myself  ‘shall I ever escape this frozen death’?

I pray that night would turn to day

I remember a farmhouse that should be near and she awaits there

and soon I must get my bearings within these dark woods

where I fear every tree looks the same I am feeling so far away

except the one where we carved our names and a heart with its arrow

my marker for direction that on this night I cannot find in the throes of bitter cold

but the snow drops like goose feathers and sticks to my nose

and I am feeling so unforgivingly bitten as I rub my brittle hands together

wishing I were in front of my warm fireplace

filled with crackling logs

rocking myself to sleep

in my favorite wooden chair

with thoughtful fond dreams of her.


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