Woman in the Woods

I spied her washing dishes by the stream
and wondered if this all just suited her —
the awning of branches and carpet of leaves,
the white pine accompaniment
in the midnight moonlight breeze.
Were the winged ones company enough?
Or did she get lonely sometimes,
find herself talking to trees
as one might dinner guests,
over bowls of berries?
Down on her knees
I heard her
singing of bees,
and thought for a moment
can I be her, please?

Poem ©2017, Jen Payne. National Poetry Month, 5. Image: Woman Picking Flowers, John William Waterhouse.

One thought on “Woman in the Woods

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