Lost in the Woods
I wanted to write you a song,
one they play on the radio,
with a bass line that brings the chorus low
and causes everyone to sing along.
With a melody that your fingers follow
up the neck of your old guitar,
telling the story of the time we got lost
in the woods under the dark new moon,
under the haunting calls of the loon;
and the hidden stars that refused to sing.
I wanted to write a new song,
one that our friends would remember,
that would warm cold hearts in December,
a good tune that didn’t take me to long.
About how the branches on the trees
shed their ravens in the dark
and reaching for us blocked the retreating path.
How our headlamp batteries died
and we learned to see the colors of the night,
learned the wrong turns from the right.
I wanted to right a wrong,
to give you something that would last forever,
a memory of our time together,
I wanted you to sing along.
I never remember the forest so big, so close
or a night that lasted that long,
the songs the insects sang
or the silent steps that followed us.
I only remember your hand in mine
and the moment that the dawn began to shine.
I wanted you to be a song,
wanted us to get along,
thought we could put it behind us
but the trees won’t forget
and singing about you tonight,
just seems wrong,
it just seems wrong.
©Timothy James Stouffer 07192018
All Rights Reserved Ely, MN
You can find more from the author online here:
