it lived in the woods

to me

it simply seemed to be

a pile of bones.

oddly shaped

painted remains

of rotting wood

that were flaking faded cracked

and unpreserved.

it took up a sacred space

in the forrest

where i often passed.

pulseless.

haunting.

unkind.

bloated with the memories

i would never have.

i took a wide path.

not respectful

nor contemplative.

more often sighing,

ignoring its weight,

feigning a need to hurry a little,

sometimes,

i admit,

with my mind wandering to destruction.

the space between

me

and the bones

full

of half memories - half dreams

of me

small alone and left

staring up at its once frightening height,

this pirate ship of adventure,

with the tree canopy as its sails...

me on the ground,

and you up there

somewhere

traveling in its secret belly

to a life i would never have.