Written by VaL Smit.
The forest lain out beneath the iron sky of winter
Is stiffened in frost
Frozen in fog
The mists as chill as death wandering to the impulse of our south-west winds
The river itself is a torrent
Tearing asunder the wood of skeletons and
Sending a raving sound of thunder through the air
Our forest now,
The cradle of fog-bred pestilence
Breathing contagion into its crowded recesses
How I long for blue skies, placid sunshine and soft western gale filled days
Our forest to shake loose its tresses and
Our Oak skeletons to be restored to its once majestic life
VaL Smit ©
VaL Smit is a South African artist and poet based in Cape Town. She writes ekphrastic poetry per artwork created and uses various media in portraying images that she feels fitting to deliver the message of the words she pens down. She focuses on the inner turmoil experienced by our disconnectedness from nature and each other. Her work has been published in various online journals including GloMag India, The Chachalaka Review, The West Review, The Raconteur Review and Literary Garland.