Through Woodlands

(She opened the door to a Wolf holding Red Roses who said, "Your father is gone. I bring the news. He stumbled in the woods, and peace found HIM. Never mind. Can I come in?") Sticks and stone and forest Bones Paths that lose their way towards home Springlets, brooks; streams that flow. Dappled rays as the breezes go. Lost is something, where is it though? Moss on rocks and fallen boughs Base of trees Leading where? Timid beings hidden, scared. Bones of the earth. The harvest of my plate. As a new bird's neck stretches, Blind, helpless for its mother's sake.