Poetry

The Guide

The Moon covers my whole face in the woods.  

It helps them to see me.  

I’ll guide the lost, whatever they may be —  

creature or human —  

they will follow, and I’ll lead.  

The grass is comfortable and dewy,  

almost a cooling sensation.  

It’s been miles and miles of adventure,  

but I won’t complain  

because I am the guide  

guiding these creatures or humans as they follow.  

I see pieces now of checkered cloth near the pine trees.  

I hear chatter:  

“we found something”  

“come quick”  

I am refreshed.  

I did my job.  

I helped find the items they needed for their investigation.  

I must go now.  

The glow turns softly down  

and hidden inside the pine trees.  

By Sam Zilic