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Some Poetry

I found Vancouer Island very inspiring. Especially it’s lush forests. This is what I came up with after a visit to Rosewall Provincial Park.

Trees

I’m sure they talk sometimes and hum when nobody listens.

About the breeze up there rumpling their leafy crowns.
About slugs tickling their bursted bark.
About green moss hanging from their branches like fairy hair.
About wanderers lingering on their strong roots.
About raindrops dripping down their stems.

They’re mild and calm.
They spread energy to those who walk by.
They stay strong.

Usually.

A slug crawls on the forest floor in Rosewall Provincial Park.
A slug crawls on the forest floor in Rosewall Provincial Park.
A look up into the treetops.
A look up into the treetops.
A wooden walkway leads through the forest on the west coast of Canada.
A wooden walkway leads through the forest on the west coast of Canada.
Somehow mystical, this path through the forest on the Canadian west coast.
Somehow mystical, this path through the forest on the Canadian west coast.
The sun shimmers through the crowns of these trees.
The sun shimmers through the crowns of these trees.

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