By Zarah Parker

I walk between two oaks,
through a path of snarled branches,
and come into the midst
of silent chaos.
I notice the river smells
of fish long gone
and berries unpicked, fallen, and rotten.
The animals have no home,
the air, no sound.
Rain that poured in summer
only breathed into the top
of the trees, leaving the forest
hungry, but alone.

I shiver; it’s only a dream.