Totem

Saturday 4 September 2021
poetry

In the hush of ancient woods, a totem stands,
Carved with stories that the elders whisper,
Its eyes a deep, unfading amber,
Watching over tribe and wanderer alike.

Each groove a memory, each symbol a pledge,
Binding past to present in silent reverence,
A quiet sentinel, rooted in earth and dream,
Where spirit and flesh entwine as one.

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