A Forest Green

Chewing on the chaos,
the deer create
the quiet space.
The trees
grow arrogantly,
with good reason;
the protectors,
until we came along.
They don't bury
their dead; logs lie
where they die,
and moss minds
its business.
The birds
sound faint;
drenched
in fluid color.
Stealthily,
the water enriches,
with no time
for flow.
Creatures
have left trails
of random thought;
winding, unresolved.
A million shades
meld into one:
a forest green