In the forest, there are toads, old leaves
and a peculiar smell: dirt and something else.
In the darkness, the fungus glows, an owl screeches
and, and, and,
rough and stubborn,
'Oh for God's sake I'm awake already.'
It's so easy to lie when you're sleeping.
Roots and stones and snail trails glistening,
leaf shapes printed on the leaves below.
But what manner of beast might inhabit
the dark and dreadful
just out of sight?
Saint Lucy, preserve us.
Be a flashlight in the darkness.
Send the guide that down this rough path
will, will, will,