Forest

Fresh water has rained from the skies,

Chilling the forest floor.

The trees look as if they have grown.

The leaves sway as the wind whips through the forest.

A droplet of water drips from a leaf into my hair.

A bird swoops down,

Grabs a wiggly worm from the soft forest floor.

The trees are like giants towering over me.

The birds, like little soldiers,

The holes in the trees, bullet holes. 

From the mighty battles with the angry fire.

I hear leaves crunching behind me

I slowly turn to see what beast is behind me

But I am mistaken, for it is no beast but a wombat 

Its razor-sharp claws are like knives, mud on its nose

It scampers away to its burrow below the ground

I feel a drop of rain on my shoulder.

I sit and lean against a towering oak tree,

Listening to the soft pitter patter of the rain.

I drift off into a deep sleep.