the soft expanse of a forest
is warmed by breath of sunlight,
twirls of fresh aureoles ripen
into wildly combed trees,
much like gypsy- red daytime
cradling a sense of hometown innocence
if only to remember one's beginnings..
softly, i lay among a hammock of buds
etched on aisles of moist stones and rocks
and in the wisp of morning's sigh,
i turn into a garment of foliage
not knowing how the wind
can scatter my breath into grains;
to amble in a dance ...till i fall
headlong into the lush of content.
Succintly Free ( SF) Contest, Andrea Dietrich