At The Forest's Edge Poem by james watkin
At The Forest's Edge
Of this chill first alerted by.
Penetrates, more than any
For what o'er a dim place of shades
Hangs, apprehensively.
Loud and clear what's intuited;
Here, the forest's edge, at:
'Man, feared, turn back; you dont belong'.
Paid in kind; whom did scat!
Monday, September 12, 2022
Topic(s) of this poem: fear,forest
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12/7/2025 11:33:43 AM # 1.0.0
