Losing Touch

she navigates
forest floor

leaps over
scales inclines

knows each
nook and cranny
every sound
a greeting

but seasons pass
and time erodes
and senses
lose sharpness


the nuances
of the woods
fading  memory

the wind’s whispers
elusive signals
inner nymph silenced.

(For Ragtag Community’s Daily Prompt: elusive.  Image from personal collection.)

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

15 thoughts on “Losing Touch”

  1. The inner nymph was unexpected, and I had to think about it and come back to it. But you’re right; the inner nymph is sure-footed, confident, and fearless in the woods, her natural element.

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