woods

woods to myself
a disciplined dancer

knowing a poet
veer to his path

stumble along
flounder

land a fish
learn the ropes
always get up again

There are days of being lost in the woods, not knowing the fate, but just being a wanderer – That’s life -Anonymous

My truth at the moment… the freedom of wandering… letting loose! The excitement of new imprisons too… to feeling of anxiety, the unknown.

Photography Poetry

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