Sense

walk the path,
the light and shade
echoing between
trunks and
last year's
fallen and wilted debris

off to the right
through the silent
sentries
do you see that?
movement,
slithering,
rustled litter....

now a sound
in front of you
who or what?
....but nothing,
nothing rears it's head
no physical vessel
presents itself
to your outer
senses
just the leaves
being blown
by ghostly breathes

the dog runs by
does he sense it too?
the vibrations?
the sense that
something is opening?
moving?
re-aligning?

but no....he runs on by
oh well, guess not
it's just me and my
ultra sense
I must have a different
set than the animals

was that laughter?
wafting softly on the air?
or just a bird call?
are the feathered
talking about me?
laughing....taunting
at my nervousness?
what do they know?

i look down,
to my feet and their
meandering travails
and spy a
little caravan
of fantasy's trouping
on their way to
an extra
dimensional
festival

and up in the trees
little doorways
into deep recesses,
elvish housekeepers
sweeping elevated
porches,
the eve's
clutter
swept out to
dissipate into
the world's
chaos

to be obsolved,
resolved,
abcessed and leached,
whisked away
from troubled occupents
no longer needing
the night's review