cold shiver,
the wind rushes through the forest leaves
and together
they applaud so loud.
a breath,
and the crickets pick-up where the cicadas left off
the skillful players
for a great conductor.
i walk alone, solitary, and not lonely.
the path
is dim beneath the living canopy of trees.
it winds its walls
of fresh air; a tunnel.
ahead
everything parts, hinting and whispering
the other side
is
a most beautiful sunset
i hear
a wistful and melancholy song
and i become sad
and thin tears stream down
and in that moment,
the sadness is clear and
beautiful.