Today I trek through an ancient forest.
Its trees are tall and strong.
The brush below is healthy and green.

I let out a shout of joy.
The sound reverberates around me.

I hear a chorus of music in the air.
I wonder what birds are hidden above.

I am merely a guest in this place.
My footprints will quickly fade.
I know that I have not wasted my time.
I have memories to keep in my heart.

W. Wayne B.
Jan. 2, 2012

About William Wayne Smith

I'm a poet, library fan and maker.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Footprints

  1. Eric Alagan says:

    The imprints are not on the ground…
    Look within…
    They are in your heart.
    – I reckon, Eric


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