Wild Woods

More than once this past winter I found myself staring from a cabin window and letting my imagination rule. The scene that engrossed me wasn't nearly as entertaining with the coming of warm weather. 

Wild Woods

In the wildwood a fallen tree

     suggests a baby dino

or maybe a funky black rhino

pausing before a crossing.

Snowfall cloaks the creature's

back and brow. Or maybe it's

the prow of Paul Bunyan's

canoe, even his misplaced shoe.

A golf club thrown in frustration

or the front of a wiener dog

escaping a tangled situation.

Conceivably, a croc surfacing

from the frosty thicket. Maybe

the emergence of a hefty cricket.

Illusions firmly planted in drifts

   of the mind, a make-believe 

 pastime until harbingers of spring 

                start to sing.  

Marilyn Aschoff Mellor