horizontal on the bed, he listened to the sounds of the wood
the walls were thin and his heart was open
the rustle of the leaves made his hair move as if blown by an invisible wind
he closed his eyes and nearly felt the dew on his cheek
the sun was on his face
the sounds of the forest overwhelmed him
but no, something is all wrong
he has never felt the wind, nor heard the howls
he has never, and will never see the wood
only the blind eyes inside can truly see
-Pamplemousse
No comments:
Post a Comment