Night Walk 1

I walk 
wary of 
        tripping roots.
 
Spider eyes
assess my presence
goblin lanterns
strung between the pines.
 
Bloated fungi 
squat like toads.
They huff 
a powdery 
poison
if disturbed.
 
No tiny rustlings
no surprised scamperings 
disorder the gloom.
Only the lost soul 
hooting
of a hunting owl
 
drops 
 
stones 
 
of 
 
sound.

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