Poetry Train Monday - 110 - Forest Bed

Saturday would have been my friend Pam's birthday, so I was thinking about her all day. She passed away a year ago last week.

Today's found poem is taken from a prose writing exercise from March of this year at my writers' group. We were doing a workshop on color, and I had to write something focusing on the color green.

Who else could I think of for green but my Eco Hero friend, Pam Langille?
















Forest Bed


Deep
In the Acadian forest
I sit

Under the canopy
of fir trees
Deep

Green needles sway
In the breeze
Filtering the light

Through greyed
Brown branches
Emerald green leaves

Poke through the firs
Beech and birch
Bright moist green moss

Coating fallen trunks
Gathered back
Into the soil

Soft feathery green
Lichen clings
To rock

The rock that marks your place
Your place is among the roots
Of the shining ancient hemlock

Soft
Little
Green

Needles draped
Over
Your forest bed

- Julia Smith, July 19, 2009 / original text March 2009













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Ms Snarky Pants says Oh that's beautiful!

Michelle Johnson says Pam's smile is exuberant in your photo.

Nikki says Why do friends have to die?