The Clearing

Through the woods I carefully tread Darkness surrounds and fills with dread Silent clouds obscure the moon Briefly break and lift the gloom A clearing darkness once concealed Parting clouds have now revealed As I draw ever slowly near The scene, obscured, becomes more clear In the meadow two giant oak Loom over trees of shorter folk Dead leaves rattle on gnarled branches And on the ground, hide where the path is A darkened pool beneath the trees Ripples in the Autumn breeze Cattail gather at the shore Insects buzz and chirp and roar As I step into the clearing Sudden quiet greets my hearing There beyond the pond, a shack Light shines out from every crack Branches woven into walls Over which some ivy crawls An old woman, a crone, a hag Dressed in clothes of tattered rag Stands beside her ramshackle home In her hands a mysterious tome She beckons to me, calls me near Moving feet I can't stop or steer Greenish skin and bedraggled hair Pointy hat and an evil stare Hands like claws open the battered book From which she reads without a look What she said I shan't repeat But my heart did skip a beat What happened next I can't recall It was a dream, that's all! So I climbed out of my bed And from my foot, a leaf was shed.