Unanswered

The pines stand as indifferent sentinels.

I carve my path,

but the wind is a careless thief,

stealing my tracks before they prove I walked this earth.

I am phantom gray in a world of color.

Where did the familiar scents go?

The trails are buried, the old landmarks erased.

Every jagged ridge looks the same,

cutting against an empty, uncaring sky.

I wander a sprawling loop of forgotten places,

a ghost haunting a forest that won’t call my name.

I throw my voice to the moon,

a raw, desperate thing tearing from my chest.

It fractures the night for only a second.

There is no answering cry.

No shift in the shadows.

Just the suffocating weight of silence pressing back.