A New Poem by Nathan
Everything silent, except for the wind whistling through the trees, already half bare leaves of gold and brown and red, dead leaves crunch underfoot, clumps of jewelweed and poison ivy swish against shoes of dried leaves and bare feet, the nickering of horses, a blur and a magnificent white heart bursts through a tangle of dead leaves, leaping over a fallen elm log half wood, half termites, seven elves follow, dressed in dried leaves and seeds and armed with large bows and spears, five arrows fly instantly embedding themselves in a young hazel.
