The forest smelled rich
a step in the bakery
flowers dropping pearls.
The forest smelled thick
trilliums awake, open,
leaves sunken in soil.
The forest let scents
down fragile banks of bluebells
in my perking nose.
Through the forest, laughed
that woodpecker at my nose
and I am laughing back.
My hands about froze
the morning sun thawed my nose
as my heart opened.
Author : Maggie Hess Maggie Hess
Indian Review | Indian Literature Magazine | Authors | Maggie Hess writes for Indian Review. Read her poems and visit for literature
Indian Review | Indian Literature Magazine | Authors | Maggie Hess writes for Indian Review. Read her poems and visit for literature
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