Friday, December 26, 2008

The Nameless

It dwells by paths overgrown
where once bare-footed families camped in foraging to hunt,
but then the mist advanced and obliterated their traces.

It dwells in the trees in the migration of winds.
Its voice is rustle, murmur and haunting.
Every creature knows its voice.
Sometimes a rumble deep communicates with her.

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