The Forests of My Childhood

I remember the woods
And walking through them
Solely for the sake
Of walking through them.
There was no time,
No beginning, no end.
Just a path or place,
A journey into myself.

Now my walks feel like walls.
A distraction from life,
A means to health,
A moment to myself.
But the trees seem different,
Sparser, but more branched.
The once lovely forest
Seems barren and black.

“Why did I come here?”
I thought today.
It’s like I’m coming home,
After a fire has taken everything.
My life has smothered my wonder,
Like kudzu on a sapling.
But where else do I have,
Where else was I once known?

The forests of my childhood
Are long since gone,
And all that’s left
Are the trees.

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