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Forest Fable

by Mary Brunini McArdle

The trees are talking to me;
They’re telling me about
The secret life
Abiding in their branches
And around their roots.
They understand I was a child,
And once could see the objects
Of their stories.

I knew about the elves that rode
The backs of lizards
In the afternoon;
Their crimson hats a match
For the flamboyant crests;
Their boots and leggings
Gray, just like the lizards’ scales.
They waved to me from saddles
Made of bark.

I feel the wind against my face,
And hear the woodland’s whisperings,
And to believe again,
All I need do
Is overturn a leaf.

Copyright © 2005 by Mary Brunini McArdle

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