By: B.A. Varghese

The green leaves crush and crackle underfoot leaving
a trail along strong brown trunks that pierce
wispy clouds in the sapphire sky. I leave
footprints behind in the soft ground and crushed
grass, in accord with and under the trail
of leaves. I hear the wind whisk in my ears
becoming like ocean waves crashing into shorelines
along a coast. I run and run looking beyond
the trees to snowcaps on top of black
crags along gray sheets of stone hanging
under. The forest closes in and I run through
crushing barks, cracking woods, and flaring splinters
into the air. I feel cuts but
I do not bleed. I look behind to no stream of blood
or flesh or red along the path. It is all a recreation
and I feel that something else once existed
in its place but I cannot recall what it is.

******

B. A. Varghese graduated from Polytechnic University (New York) in 1993 and has been working in the Information Technology field ever since. Inspired to explore his artistic side, he is currently working toward a degree in Creative Writingfrom the University of South Florida. His works have appeared in Apalachee Review, Rose Red Review, The Camel Saloon, Foliate Oak, and other literary journals. (www.bavarghese.com)