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Writer's pictureAiysha Sinclair

Into the forest we go!


Hideaway

My footsteps carry me within the forest walls

Full of stories untold

Hideaway places

And meetings after sundown


Roots curl and coil above ground

Toppling each other for a chance to tell secrets of mysteries buried deep within


Carry me forward on these dirt roads

When the water rises to the left and right

Green moss and fallen pine

Prickly palm leaves dance and sway with the wind

Arched tree branches are pathways to streams

and discarded seashells, left by critters who feast in the night


My timid footsteps try not to wake any gator sleeping in the marsh

Remnants of brick buildings

Spirits holding on to a life once lived

It’s all memories here

Dense and stuck within the rotting Oak

Hollow now and home to prey of

Mightier beasts

A hiding place for acorns and dried up leaves

Tiny sticks lead to bones

returning back to the earth

My feet tire now as I make my way back home in Savannah


Poem and Photos by Aiysha Sinclair









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