Forest Walk

Forest Walk
by Kristine O’Connell George

I’m practicing my
I-belong-here
no-twig-snap
no-leaf-rustle
no-branch-crack
see-all, know-all
float-like-fog
like-smoke
pine-needle-soft
forest walk.
No one will know I’m coming.
No one will know when I’m gone.

Photo by Phil Douglis, Northwest Passage, Summer, 2009

Photo by Phil Douglis, Northwest Passage, Summer, 2009

I found this lovely poem on the website for Poetry Foundation on their children’s poetry page.  I think every Monday ought to start with a poem, which is hard to promise to myself to keep; but I can make April Mondays begin with a poem for sure. When I was in elementary school – third or fourth grade I think – Mom bought us a big, fat book of collected American poetry for children. I loved opening up that book at random and reading a poem. I loved that there were poems written just for me and that they weren’t only funny, or pretty rhymes, though I loved those too. I liked how the editor had trusted that I wouldn’t be scared by a really big book filled with poems and few illustrations. That book made me step up and begin to have a more serious relationship to poems, beyond the beloved Robert Louis Stevenson A Child’s Garden of Verses, or A.A. Milne’s poems. Those books had been made just for me too, but the new book, the big book – that was made for my mind and I recognized its very existence as a challenge.

Visit photographer Phil Douglis’ website
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About Tina Hoggatt

I am an artist and writer and work for 4Culture, King County's cultural arts organization.
This entry was posted in books, kidlit and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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