The Hollow (9)

This entry is part 9 of 48 in the series The Hollow


den holes

I knock on the tree to see
if a head pokes out


a breeze shakes acorns loose

their muffled thumps into rain-
softened moss


how great it felt
not to be afraid of falling
in last night’s dream


perched aristocratically
among the toadstools

a cranefly

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