Outside

By Aarav Kumar

Gravel crunches,

A pebble thrown to the side.

A leaf in parabolic flight, 

Swirling with the gusts of nature’s breath.

Inhale, exhale, and a boot put forward.

But then, anxiety permeates.

Does the footprint not corrupt the virgin forest?

Elven tricksters beckon from beyond the bushes,

Hiding behind trunks of ancient oak,

Guiding the entranced towards the path-

What path?  The canopy spares no light.

It fades into foliage- road to things unknown.

The craven would flee, I wouldn’t.

Perhaps the road is destined to be lost?

Critters of species lost to textbooks crawl,

Unaware of the murderous sole of my boot.

A fox barks beyond the rows of birch,

Unafraid of the rifle my compatriots hold.

A raven caws mockingly from a distant tree;

It is just too far.  Only just.

Still, will a better rifle bring it in range?

The sun nestles into its cave,

Crevice between snowy mountains.

The fox is quiet, the critters crawl back,

But the wrappers glisten in reddened light.

Cartridges that spilt blood hide beneath the leaves.

Nevertheless, the raven still caws from its perch.

Do our sunsets coincide?

By Aarav Kumar