Wakerobin and Orchids
A Poem of the Forest
golden light of morning finds the forest still, patient, fern-green, silent, forgotten moonbeams lying about in pools of dying light
the forest duff is spongy and welcoming, misty with a lemon haze, limbs entangled overhead an archway to a hidden kingdom, an invitation to wander amid wakerobin and orchids hovering, glowing faintly like a reflection in fog