I walk
wary of tripping
roots.
Spider eyes assess my presence
goblin lanterns strung between the pines.
Bloated fungi squat like toads
They huff a powdery poison if disturbed.
No tiny rustlings, no surprised scamperings
disorder the gloom.
Only the lost soul hooting of a hunting owl
drop stones
of
sound.
Image: Stars illuminate the trees at Galloway Forest Park (Photolibrary)
