Today I stood still in a forest

and trailed my gaze up pillars and pillars

of wood.


Leafless branches, skinless and bony

scratched the sky,

and the ground was sodden beneath my feet.


The whispers of the wind

and the squelch of mud

played a soundtrack in my head


as I walked a path I have never roamed.

And I flipped a penny at each turning

to determine which way I should go.


I longed to stray from the path, those

downtrodden pine needles,

and delve into the unknown around me.


I yearned to beat through bushes,

cut my hands on brambles and

stumble over tree trunks and roots.


But that might ruin my clothes,

my shoes, the blank canvas of

my flesh.


And so again I was faced with

a tragic flaw – the struggle of

being lost in the woods.


In the end, no matter the urge to run,

I walked,

and put preservation before exploration again.