escapril day 22: into the woods
Shadows here are plentiful and strange –
The dark has glowing eyes but no eyelids
(They never blink). Peculiar and estranged,
Here is a place where the monsters live.
Suspiciously hand-like sticks do reach
To crack my bones like snapping twigs,
With an ankle-grab, an echoing screech
Rings in this place where the monsters live.
At daybreak sunlight spills through leaves,
Still something is lurking under the bridge.
Jewelled sap sparkles on bright sided trees,
But the dark side is where the monsters live.
A bubbling brook laughs around my toes
Though pretty, trees cage me in forest ribs.
Enchanting in such obscurity, who knows
What hides in a place where the monsters live?