I Commune With the Forest

Is there anything as silent as fog in a forest? I doubt it. As I venture deeper into it, I think bobcat. When you hear one the hair on your neck rises. Its scream sounds like a woman being raped and killed. There is nothing but nothingness in this beauty of a day. The leaves are off the trees, but no longer crunchy. So even my boot steps are silent. I feel God watching me. Are there deer? A fox? Raccoons? A rabbit? There is a smear in the corner of my eye. A glimmer of a wisp of something. Gone when I turn. I commune with the forest Aware the trees are shushing each other With silent voices. The echo of quiet is inspiring. I sit on a wet felled log and wish I had not. Now my jeans are wet and I am uncomfortable. I hear the bobcat’s scream. It is time to quietly return to the house As I turn, I hope nothing will jump on my back, breaking it So a large cat can begin devouring me at my head.