2017, POETRY, Uncategorized

Good Listeners

sometimes finds me,
wraps it’s arms around me,
and tries to drag me into the darkness.

sometimes haunts me
late in the night
as I try to sleep.
It sweeps under my soul,
trying to pull me down.

So I go back home to the mountains,
to hang with the pack,
And run through the woods.
howling with my friends at the trees:
cause the mountains and trees
are really good listeners.

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