The Wood
BY SOFIE DARDZINSKI
I splash in the flowing, electric, cobalt of water in summer, Gently wading on coarse rippling surfaces below to the deep and smooth area only of pebbles.
Dipping under when mother wasn’t noticingwater said to be drainage from expressways, Even though it was purely rooted in the core of the earth.
Standing on the minuscule coast, tossing stones that skipped across the water. They hopped like deer and rabbits and foxes when chased in the wood.
Other times I would run on the nothing trail, leaping over roots and rocks that Caught me off guard.
Stepping on the lugubrious tree - rising up and down like a seesaw in Hadley’s park, Grabbing hold of the precarious pendulous ivy, swinging like Tarzan.
I would breathe in the rarified air
Saunter on the same paths that the hunter-gatherers did, some time ago.
this wood - fighting deforestation
Like an immune defense system to something more modern and unknown.
Trusting that technology won’t interrupt the peace and scarcity of this canopy, But still promising that I will visit again, maintain my ruling of the animal kingdom.
I feel different here, a special sensation Where I don’t have to keep still or silent or trap my inner-self.
A place where it is just me, Encompassed by the radiating energy that pulls me from reality.
As I traipse, I don’t know I am grateful for