The forest lurches inward forming a canopy.
Bending forward like exhausted soldiers returning from combat
Torso’s hunched over their rifles like crutches.
The path darkens at the stream.
Broken boulders face the cold rumble of water
The sound echoes against the mountains
As if forlorn canon fire in the shadowed distance
Shattering buildings into monuments of abandonment.
And thus, into the darkening valley of boulders and water
Along the stream’s banks walk trains of hollow men, Adam’s children.
Fractured in meaningless fear of a full heart.
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