Forest Baby

Branches slap her skin

She runs through the place

Like it’s her own

She’s lost but she just keeps going

Webs tickle her nose

And a thousand baby spiders crawl under her clothes

She’s a forest baby This is her home

-Saschia Johnson

 

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Been working on editing my collection of poetry and figuring out the best way to promote and sell it. Very exciting and very stressful. Definitely learning a lot. yay!