Field Guide to the Haunted Forest (Haunted Forest Trilogy)

by Jarod K. Anderson

Poetry is an odd creature.

Crimson in the veins of a sleeping child,

You were once very much part of your mother’s body.

What do they name the wilderness of you?

Gather the fuel. Double it.

We live and then we don’t.

It’s still sadness.

You are a unique sentence built from the alphabet of our universe.

So, as ever, love is risk. And, as ever, worth the danger.

I wish I could wander back through my ancestors like a steppingstone path.

and you expect to be perfect?

To live is to collect risk like a bee collects nectar.

Our task is to become our truest selves and to smile at the knowledge that we will not succeed.