The Forest and a Friend
A mist of five-finger leaves floats down to surround a young boy in a worn, aging body. The forest hides him like a blanket does when he senses a monster under his bed. This place has always been a friend. It is his hideaway. It gives comfort. He finds solace.
He sits upon the remains of a broken tree. The living giants surrounding him reach up, swaying, grabbing for the warm yellow. There is quiet in the many sounds of the forest. He closes his eyes to hear its song. He interprets their words. He finds peace.
His breath deepens inhaling the soft sweet breeze. His heart slows its rhythm. He happily eats the sweetness of the moment. There is no hunger. He finds nourishment.
He knows he can not sit here forever. The darkness of a tired mind finds him. It plays like a movie full of what-ifs. The silent song crashes into bits of glass. The blanket pulls away. The monster growls. The sweetness fades. He finds regret.
An old man sits on the broken tree. The sweetness has left. He spits out the bitter and wipes his wet lips. The yellow slowly fades toward black. He stands to walk away. His heart quickens its pace. The weight presses down. He finds reality.
d-_-b “feed the tree” – Belly