The Glade of the Forest

In the glade of the forest
we found a spot
it was the perfect shape
a home for a woodland creature
a magic brewing witch
kids just like us.

Five trees stood together
a small circle almost complete
acorns, berries, pine cones strewn within
soft forest floor
the oak, the largest above the maples
with a burrowed hole in the base of the trunk
the size of a cooking pot
and here is where we made our brews
twigs, pine needles, acorns, dirt, leaves, berries
we stirred with the best sticks we could find
making the best soups we could make
to feed our magic hearts
and to beckon the wild things
that we knew could see us in the woods.

I would greet the fawn
as she walked into the circle
“hello fawn. do you want some breakfast?”
I’d lay a bowl on the ground for her.

I’d poke and tend to our brew once again
adding a few new ingredients
black oak, birch bark
wondering if the porcupine
would show up or not.

the kids would start to walk by on the trail
back towards the school yard
noisy shouting and snorting
and the school bell would ring
they’d start to run and rush
snapping me from my trance
the flora and fauna releasing me for the moment
reluctantly looking over my shoulder
back at the brown bricked building
unwilling to budge
my magic holding me down
expecting and waiting and waiting
for the woods to fold into themselves
to reveal the shimmering under belly
of everything I’ve always felt
but had never seen with my eyes.

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