Vibrant green foliage surrounding my peripheral  
 Steady flowing blue burbling stream 
 Yellow brown slime covered rock path 
 Fallen branches littering the foot-made mud path 
 Abandoned graying spider webs whipping with the breeze  
 Glossy black plumage flies by singing 
 Dead gray moss turning to dust beneath my feet 
 Fading candy wrappers maybe musketeers 
 Broken bird eggs lost and forgotten  
 Roots wrapping around roots stringing along the waterway 
 Water sloshing up off random rocks  
 Long strands of grass being dunked by the current  
 Silver fish strong enough to survive the swim by the bank 
 Rain trickles down, giving everything a shine 
 The grey sky is littered with darkening clouds  
 Small squirrel scampers past searching the dead things for food 
 Unseen birds call out, for what I’m not sure 
 Dead fallen pine sits rotting on the path 
 Wet dark hair mixed with pine needles sticks to my face 
 It’s getting colder, my breath in front of me warns of it 
 A small cavern sits against a rock wall 
 The inside dark and musty 
 Water trickles down cracks on the walls 
 Loose stones and dead brambles trip up my feet 
 The world doesn’t breathe in here 
 An animal scampers past, can’t make it out 
 Outside the rain feeds the wild 
 I wonder if this is something Charles Dickens liked to do.