I wander into the forest as the full moon hovers in the northern sky. The spruce trees quiver gently as my body brushes against their snow-laden branches. Making my way through thicker foliage, I sink with each step in knee-deep snow, as I return to a place I have missed, but not forgotten. At the crest of a hill in the clearing, I see the verdant beings, standing like guardians in the moonglow.
"You've grown. You've changed,” I whisper to one of the trees, still adorned with a few decorations from past Solstice ceremonies. In the spaces between, from deep within, a flutter.
"So have you.”
turning the page
a silhouette disappears
in the fog
Prose: Michelle Hyatt
Haiku: Jacob Salzer