The thing about the forest
where the sunlight fails to see
in the shadows of the quiet
just behind that gnarly tree
lurks a dangerous whatever
that I somehow failed to see,
where thoughts imagine footsteps
and twigs snap by themselves
small, aggressive you-know-whats
not half as cute as elves,
sneak past my observations
and what sounded like a sneer
could have been my inner voice
I won’t be camping here.
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