CYPRESS
These are woods with no clear paths,
only standing water between the trees,
hiding the heavy muds. These are woods
where insects scream, and black beasts wait
beneath the heavy leaves, their jaws
ready to seize a foot or hand.
These are woods where the lost
cannot soon be found.
These are woods where herons rest
and suddenly rise between the trees
on slow and silent wings. These are woods
where bright orchids spring
from corners dank with mud. These are woods
where one can hide. That catch the wind.
where silence
can be found.
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