jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Indian Trail


This trail used to go deep
into the woods
where trees grew twenty stories tall
and wept at night
when the wind blew just right.
Exactly half-way in
a circular fire pit made of round stones
and built by natives
brought order and clarity
inside this forgotten place.
Whenever I lose sight
or long to reminisce
I close my eyes and dream
of the Indian Trail
I miss so much.


december two thousand eleven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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7 thoughts on “Indian Trail

  1. every line is perfect..

  2. The phrase that caught me was, how the trees “wept at night” – what a unique capture of trees at night. This is layered deep, I reckon. Lovely and thanks, Eric

  3. WordsFallFromMyEyes on said:

    Lovely. The Indian Trail…. even love that word ‘trail’, seems to meander all by itself.

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